


Eir's 2019 Whumptober

by Iron_Eirlyssa (Eirlyssa)



Category: Iron Man (Movies), The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Avengers Family, BAMF Tony Stark, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Howard Stark's A+ Parenting, Hurt Tony Stark, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Injury, M/M, Pain, Protective Avengers, Protective Bucky Barnes, Sometimes Alternate Universe, Tags May Change, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony Stark-centric, Whump, Whumptober 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2020-11-09 03:27:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 23,460
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20846765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eirlyssa/pseuds/Iron_Eirlyssa
Summary: A series of short fics with one thing in common - Tony Stark. Most are whumpy, some are softer. Fills all of the prompts for the Whumptober challenge.





	1. Shaky Hands

**Author's Note:**

> My attempt at Whumptober, heavy on the Comfort because I like happy endings. I hope you all like it!

Cursing softly, Tony tried not to cry. He knew he needed sleep - even being used to going without for long times, this had been too long. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

Not until he’d fixed this.

Picking up the soldering iron once more, he gritted his teeth as he tried to still his shaking hands enough to attach the wire he’d been meaning to. He had to swallow a whimper when he failed yet again, adding another burn to his increasingly injured hands.

Why was he so _useless_?

Before he could completely descend into panic, a voice interrupted his spiraling thoughts.

“Doll?” Bucky sounded concerned, and Tony’s exhaustion made it so he sounded further away than he truly was - only a few steps away, face worried. “You need to rest,” he told Tony, more kindly than he deserved.

“I can’t,” he choked out, and he could feel the way the trembling was starting to spread through the rest of his body. “Not until… I have to fix this.”

“Sweetheart…” Now, Bucky approached, gently taking the soldering iron from his hand and putting it in its stand. Tony didn’t even have the strength to resist, even though he should, and it felt like a miracle that he managed to swallow his rising tears. “It’s not your fault.”

Tony broke. With a choked-off sob, he fell against Bucky, whose arms immediately wrapped around him. “I should’ve…”

“You did everything you reasonably could,” Bucky told him, sounding absolutely certain. “Because you never do anything less. If anything, you keep trying to do too much.”

“But if I’d improved the body armor sooner…”

“Then you wouldn’t have been able to design those new and improved Widow’s Bites that won our last fight. Or that water sanitizer that’s going to help endless amounts of people, in Flint and in other countries as well. Or the improved plating on Rhodes’ armor that saved him two weeks ago. You have limited time and energy, sweetheart, and you’re not obliged to spend all of that energy trying to help others. You do more than you should already, and we _know_ that. As heroes, we have volunteered to risk our lives trying to save others, and it is _not your fault_ when someone _else_ decides they want to do bad things.”

All of it rang true, and Tony knew all of those had been necessary inventions as well. But he couldn’t help but think that if he’d only done a little bit more, been a little bit better…

“Please, sweetheart. You need to sleep,” Bucky nearly begged.

Part of him wanted to insist on staying in the workshop, on making sure no one would ever be able to hurt any of their teammates again. Another, more reasonable part of him that sounded like some combination of Rhodey, Pepper and Bucky was telling him that there was never a guarantee in the kind of world they lived in, and he would be able to help out more when he was rested and not constantly trying to solder his own fingers instead of the wires he was aiming for.

“Will you stay with me?” he asked, muffled into Bucky’s chest and nearly inaudible. His still-shaking hands, gripping the soldier’s shirt, seemed to be hurting even more now, and he knew he should put some cream on them before sleeping in order to make sure they healed quicker.

“As long as you want me to,” Bucky promised, his own face buried in Tony’s hair. “I’ll always be here for you, sweetheart.”

Later, as Tony dropped off, he sighed at the feeling of strong hands massaging cream into his own. “Love you,” he managed to mumble before fading away completely, secure in the fact that Bucky was there for him, cared about him, and had promised to stay.


	2. Explosion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whumptober day 2 - Explosion!

Twelve seconds.

It only took him one second to think it all through. More time, and he probably would have been able to defuse the bomb. One minute would have been enough.

But he didn't have one minute, and it looked like it'd wipe out half of Brooklyn, if not all of it, when it went off.

They'd evacuated the immediate area, but that wouldn't be enough. Not even close.

Three more seconds and he'd stabilized the power source enough that he could move it without it instantly exploding in his arms.

Two more seconds to exit the building safely, without destabilizing the foundation.

That left him with six seconds to get as far away from civilization as possible.

"_Iron Man, what's going on?_" he heard Steve demanding over the comms as he bolted off as quickly as the armor could go, out over the Atlantic where hopefully no one would get hurt.

Except him.

"Emergency detour," he informed them. "Mind the 'bang'."

"_What -_" he could hear Bucky starting to ask, but there simply wasn't enough time.

With one second left, he threw it as far away as possible, arms coming up in front of his face and chest to protect himself as much as possible. He knew it wouldn't be enough.

It went off with a flash that just about blinded him. After that, there was nothing.

(He didn't feel himself hitting the water, where he started to sink quickly. He didn't feel the water entering the armor through the damage caused by the bomb. He didn’t feel the way Thor grabbed him, dragging him up and out of the water and back to the Coney Island beach, where the other Avengers were waiting for them.)

(He didn’t feel the way they carefully took off the pieces of the armor, keeping him as stable as possible, to get him ready for the ambulance. He didn’t hear Bucky begging him to hold on, to _please_ live. He didn’t notice the way Steve had to hold Bucky back when Tony was taken away, assuring him they’d join him in the hospital as soon as they could.)

(He didn’t see the tears on Bucky’s face as the doctors told the Avengers about his injuries. He didn’t feel the way Natasha stroked his hair as he lay in the hospital bed or the way Bucky held his hand ever-so-gently. He didn’t hear the way Clint rambled at him to have something to fill the silence or the way Steve told him he’d done well even though no one was happy with this result either. He didn’t smell the food Bruce had made in hopes of waking him up. He didn’t taste the potion Thor had brought in hopes of saving his life.)

The first thing he felt was pain. It was like there was no part of his body that hadn’t been injured. Then, his brain desperate for something else, _anything else_, he could feel the way a hand was holding his.

When he opened his eyes, infinitely grateful that the lights were down, the first thing he saw was Bucky, head resting beside his leg as he slept restlessly.

As much as he was hurting, he put in all the effort he could in order to squeeze his hand around Bucky’s. He was not surprised when his boyfriend shot up immediately, eyes red and hair a mess. “Tony…” His voice was rough, either from sleep or from worry, but the relief was obvious.

Aware of the fact that he would not be able to talk, not with how much his throat was hurting, Tony shot him a crooked smile.

It was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to come check out my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) as well.


	3. Delirium

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The fill for day 3 of Whumptober - Delirium. It didn't quite cooperate the way I wanted it to, but I'm still pretty proud of it!

There were honestly a lot of reasons Tony didn’t like board meetings. To start with, they were either incredibly boring or, if they weren’t, they tended to be incredibly frustrating. Not to mention they brought back plenty of unpleasant memories having to do with either Howard or Stane, as well as unpleasant memories of the way previous members of the board had treated him when he was younger.

Right now, though, one of the reasons he disliked board meetings the most was the fact that it meant interacting with people, which meant _catching their illnesses_.

Which was why he was currently hiding away from the other Avengers and feeling increasingly terrible.

Being ill had always been a bit of an issue for him, especially since both of his parents had made it fairly obvious that they did not appreciate him being more of an inconvenience than he already was. Jarvis, in contrast, had always been more than considerate.

As a result, he tended to isolate himself from most people when feeling unwell. On the other hand, he had a tendency of being very clingy and affectionate with the ones he _did_ trust.

Tony whimpered, trying to find a way to lie down that did not somehow _hurt_. Fever always made his skin more sensitive than usual, and even his expensive sheets felt like sandpaper at the moment. Wet, uncomfortable sandpaper that was either too hot or too cold. He just wanted it to be _over_ already, to be able to think properly again and to be able to get up without getting so dizzy he had to lie down again immediately.

“I have sent DUM-E up with something for you to drink, Sir,” JARVIS informed him. “If you do not ingest some liquids within the next half an hour, I will be forced to call for assistance.”

Another whimper escaped him, and he could _feel_ the way his thoughts were slipping. He found himself simultaneously wishing that someone would be there to help, to make him feel better, and wishing to be left utterly alone in his misery because he’d just be a burden to everyone else.

He sobbed softly, turning around yet again in hopes this position would be marginally more comfortable. It didn’t work, unfortunately.

Soft beeping from the doorway alerted him to DUM-E - no matter what else, he’d always know that sound, and he managed to bring up a trembling smile as the bot approached far more slowly than he usually would. In his claw, he was carefully holding a bottle of water with a straw in it, for easier drinking.

“I can’t,” he found himself sobbing - it was too much, too hot, too cold, too painful. He couldn’t bring himself to even hold up his arm to grab the bottle, and the thought alone of trying to drink made him nauseous.

DUM-E’s soft beeping became a little more insistent, and he tried to lift his hand to grab the bottle, only to miss. Later, he could only be grateful that DUM-E was still holding it, meaning he only spilled a little of it, but it was enough. The cold water hitting his face hurt, and suddenly he was back in Afghanistan, face wet and hurting all over and feeling trapped.

There were voices - one, at first, and then more of them, but he couldn’t tell what they were saying. The words sounded foreign, unfamiliar, and he gritted his teeth in order not to whimper. “No,” he insisted, trying to sound so much stronger than he felt. “No.”

But there were hands on his arms, holding him down, and he cried out. He couldn’t… He _couldn’t_. He’d barely survived the first time, he couldn’t do this again, please.

Everything hurt, and he was stuck right back in one of his worst nightmares.

Cold hit him, and he whimpered with pain. It was good, because he was burning, but it _hurt_, and he had no idea what was going on and he wanted all of it to _stop_. And then, blissfully, slowly, he started sinking away, the fear and the pain and the heat and the cold slowly backing up until there was only peaceful darkness.

The last thing he heard was a soft “we’ll take care of you, Tony.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please feel free to come check out my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) if you want to!


	4. Human Shield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So for day 4 of Whumptober, I decided to go softer. Happy World Animal Day everyone!!

It was unfair, Tony thought, how quickly the weather could turn.

When he'd left the Tower, it might have been somewhat cold, but the sun had been shining with few clouds in the sky. Now, not even two hours later, it was _pouring_. He honestly wouldn't even be surprised if it started hailing in a bit, considering how cold the rain already was.

On the bright side, at least he'd managed to find himself some cover so he wouldn't get soaked. On the not-so-bright side, he had no idea when it would stop raining. From the way the clouds looked, huge and heavy and dark, dark grey, he'd guess it could take a while.

Before he could start thinking of ways to get back to the Tower that would keep him as dry as possible, he frowned. Was that a sound?

Now that he was focusing on it, it became clearer. It sounded like whimpering of some sort, a soft squeaking sound that actually worried him.

Leaving the dubious safety of his shelter, he slowly approached. It didn't take long for his clothes to be soaked through, not with how hard it was raining, but he hardly felt it through his focus.

The sound wasn't loud, and the rain falling almost masked it completely, but now that he'd heard it, Tony could distinguish it easily. It seemed to come from a small nook between buildings, not even big enough to be called an alley.

At first, it looked like a trash bag. And, to be fair, it kept looking like a trash bag. Except the trash bag was moving slightly, and whining.

"Oh no," he whispered, approaching it hesitantly. The whimpering was a somewhat good sign, he supposed, but...

When he gently pulled at it, trying to see how to get the animal out of there safely, it just about fell off, revealing one tiny, muddy canine that he hoped was a regular dog puppy and not something more feral. "Oh, sweetheart," he muttered. The thing was clearly too young to be on its own, eyes not even opened yet, and he knew he had to get it out of the cold immediately if he wanted it to have any chance of surviving.

It was far too cold to the touch, and Tony quickly unzipped his jacket. Hopefully, his own body heat would be able to help a little, until he could truly warm it up.

Hunching over the poor creature to keep it safe from the icy rain, he set a steady pace towards the Tower, not even paying all that much attention to the weather anymore. He was already soaked through anyway - the best thing to do would be to get back as quickly as possible so he could warm the both of them up over there.

There was hardly anyone on the streets - even the people who _had_ remembered to bring umbrellas were mostly sheltering instead of trying to brave the winds.

Tony cursed softly. The rain had been bad enough, and every drop already felt like a rock hitting him due to how cold he was, but he could see how the rain was slowly shifting into hail. The creature in his arms couldn’t wait until it stopped, though. Even with Tony using his body to both warm it up and protect it from getting even more soaked, he could feel how weak its struggles were getting, hear the way it whimpered softly.

Finally, he could see the Tower in the distance. “Only a little further, sweetheart,” he assured the (hopefully) dog in his arms. “Only a little longer and we’ll get you warm and fed.”

As soon as he made it into the lobby, he addressed one of JARVIS’ sensors. “J, start up a warm bath on my floor, and we need some _very_ urgent supplies for a very young puppy - or at least, that’s what I think it is.”

“Yes, Sir,” JARVIS agreed immediately, voice following him as he quickly stepped into the elevator.

He was dripping all over the floor, and despite the fact that the Tower was significantly warmer than it had been outside, he still felt like he was freezing. Unfortunately, so did the puppy.

When he got to his own floor, he wasn’t entirely surprised to see that Bucky was there, looking concerned. “JARVIS said you were back,” he explained his presence. “Damn, doll, you look like you’re freezing.”

“Feel that way, too,” he admitted. “But I couldn’t wait out the weather.”

“I’d have come to pick you up, you know?”

“Roads were too congested - _everyone’s_ taking a car right now. And I had to get this little one somewhere safe and warm, quickly.”

Apparently, JARVIS hadn’t informed Bucky of Tony’s recent find, and when he opened up his jacket to reveal the tiny animal, Bucky looked absolutely stunned. “Is that a puppy?” he asked, voice almost reverent.

“Found it near where I was sheltering, in a trash bag,” he explained, grimacing. As the two of them were speaking, he kept moving to the bathroom. Not only was he more likely to get ill the longer he stayed in his soaking clothes, but the animal _really_ needed to warm up quickly.

While he would usually prefer a shower over a bath, he hoped this would make it easier to get the animal clean and back to a better temperature.

“I have taken the liberty of alerting a veterinarian, who will also bring the supplies for your find,” JARVIS informed him.

“Good job, J.” Tony started to take off his clothes, only to find that it was quite difficult to do so with only one arm available. Still, he didn’t want to set the puppy down.

Of course, he wasn’t alone anymore. “Here, doll, let me help,” Bucky offered, holding out his arms. Considering he ran at a higher temperature than normal humans, Tony hoped it would help warm the creature up.

Quickly divesting himself of his clothes, he sat down in the bathtub. It wasn’t quite the high temperature he usually preferred, but he guessed JARVIS had done that on purpose - even now, it felt like thousands of pinpricks on his chilled skin. He didn’t have too much time to worry about it, though, instead turning back to Bucky and holding out his own arms.

“I’ll go make sure to get some towels warmed up,” Bucky offered, blushing when Tony smiled at him with infinite gratitude.

“You’re amazing, Snowflake,” he softly told his boyfriend.

With an adoring smile, Bucky leaned down to give him a brief kiss. “So are you, doll. A real hero,” he only half-joked. “Wish I could stay, but I better make sure you and your rescue can get warmed up quickly.” Then, he headed off, grabbing four towels to throw into the dryer so they would be warm when Tony got out of the bath.

Ever-so-gently, he washed the mud off the puppy, revealing snow-white fur. Fortunately it had been warmed up by his own body heat, so it didn’t seem to mind the water as much as Tony had. “There you go, sweetheart,” he told it softly. The whining had grown less, though he knew it was probably hungry. Who knew how long it had been out there before he’d found it?

Despite the fact that it was probably starving and feeling completely awful, it lied trustingly in Tony’s hand, and he could feel himself falling in love.

When Bucky came back, carrying the warm towels, he smiled when he saw the look on Tony’s face. “So… We’re keeping it, aren’t we?” His voice was soft and utterly non-judgmental, and from the look in his eyes, Tony guessed he didn’t mind at all.

He looked back down at the tiny animal, now wrapped in one of the warm towels and squeaking softly. “Yeah… Yeah, I think we are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to come check out my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) as well!


	5. Gunpoint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In order to make up for yesterday's relative fluffiness, here's some actual angst for day 5 of Tony's Whumptober.

It all went south far quicker than anyone saw coming.

One moment, they were dancing and chatting with various people of varying levels of interest. The next, someone had crashed through the door, pulled out a gun, and shot one of the speakers, yelling for silence.

"Get people out of here," Tony softly whispered to Pepper, who had been his dance partner. Subtly, he maneuvered himself so even if the guy started randomly shooting, he'd be hit before she was.

"_Tony_."

"Don't worry," he told her, knowing it would be completely useless. And from the look on her face, she knew he knew.

He couldn't just let this guy start hurting people, though. Especially since these people were civilians, and he'd never been great at standing by.

As Pepper carefully started maneuvering people towards the doors leading to the terrace outside, trying to make sure the shooter didn't notice, Tony moved himself in his general direction. Whoever he was, he was looking through around searchingly, obviously looking for someone.

"Where is Fujikawa!?" he called out, and the threatening tone of his voice made it clear this was the person he was here to find.

Before anyone else could say anything - since Tony was pretty sure Rumiko Fujikawa was one of the people Pepper was currently trying to usher out of the room as quickly as possible and her father had not been on the guest list for tonight - he broke through the crowd.

"Afraid Ms. Fujikawa couldn't make it tonight. Would you like to leave a message?" He kept his tone as easygoing as possible.

Predictably, the gun was immediately aimed at him. The look in the guy’s eyes worried Tony - if he had to guess, he’d say this guy felt like he had nothing to lose. And often, those people were the most dangerous.

“_Where is she?_” he hissed out.

Little by little, Tony got closer to the guy, blocking as much of the room from his sight as possible. “Like I said, she couldn’t make it tonight.”

“You’re _lying_,” he screamed, and he fired a shot at the ceiling before aiming his gun straight at Tony once more. “I know she’s here. Now _where. Is. She!?_”

“Not. Here.” The longer he could keep this guy focused on him, the more time the police or, hopefully, the rest of the Avengers had to get there. Mentally, Tony noted to himself that he should _really_ get working on getting himself into a suit someway quicker than bringing the suitcase version, or at least a way to bring some part of the suit with him.

He saw the moment the guy made his decision - the way his eyes went flat and cold, rather than the manic look that had been in them. Still, there wasn’t anything he could do, not unless he wanted to risk everyone standing behind him. Despite the way he’d slowly been moving closer, he was nowhere near close enough to keep the guy from pulling the trigger, let alone getting the gun off him.

So he couldn’t say he was surprised when the guy fired at him, and he couldn’t help but brace himself for the impact. Not that it ever helped.

Steve's shield came flying past the exact moment Tony felt the bullet hit him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it helps, I hc that the Avengers were overall in time to help out - no one got hurt except Tony, who was taken to a hospital and made a full recovery with the full support of his friends.
> 
> Also feel free to come check out my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) if you want :)


	6. Dragged Away

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another fairly soft fic for day 6 of Whumptober - I'm not sure I'm doing this right xD

No matter what Rhodey, or Pepper, or JARVIS, or Bucky, or the other Avengers, or the entirety of Stark Industries, or even Past Tony thought, sleep-deprived Tony was _brilliant_.

Okay, so things exploded sometimes, and some of his ideas had little practical application, but that was part of being an _inventor_.

So he thought it was rather unfair that Past Tony had betrayed him as he did.

Which was why he was currently sneaking off to the common room he shared with the others to try to obtain some of his life's elixir. He'd tried to get DUM-E to bring him some, but JARVIS had told him there were protocols for when he was as sleep-deprived as he was, and they included no access to coffee.

"Well, belay that order," he'd told his AI - he didn't have time to worry about where to get his coffee when he was on the verge of a _brilliant_ breakthrough.

"This protocol cannot be cancelled unless you have slept a minimum of six hours within the past twenty-four hours," JARVIS had told him, sounding awfully smug. "A safeguard you agreed to, being aware of how you could get when abstaining from sleep for too long."

He'd show JARVIS and Past Tony both. If he wanted coffee, he'd get coffee. Sleep was for the sane, after all.

Sticking close to the walls, he warily listened for the presence of anyone else. Stealth was of the essence, especially if JARVIS decided to get the others in on his nefarious plans. And considering Tony had been the one to create him, he knew _exactly_ how evil the AI could be.

A faint look at the windows told him it wasn't the time he thought it was - whatever that time had been. Late evening, perhaps? He'd been expecting it to be dark, at least, and he wasn't sure he liked how bright the sun was.

Perhaps he should invent something to deal with that?

The kitchen appeared to be empty at first glance, whatever time it was. And there, on the countertop, was Tony's ultimate goal - the Coffee Machine.

He couldn't help but let out an excited "_yes_" when he saw there was some coffee still left in it, even.

With his target in his sights, he forgot to pay attention to his surroundings, which ended up being his downfall. Because right as he reached the counter, arms already extended reverently towards the coffee he'd been craving, a strong arm wrapped itself around his waist.

"Noooooo," he whined woefully, hoping his loving boyfriend might take pity on him.

Hoping in vain.

"C'mon, doll, time to get some sleep," Bucky told him, sounding unfairly amused.

"But, but... _coffee_," he tried one more time. "I have a universe to improve, Bucky! Science to create, inventions to innovate!"

"And you can do all of that _after_ you've had a nap."

He couldn't help his whine as Bucky gently pulled him away, farther and farther from his life essence. "You can't do this to meeeeee," he complained. "I have a right to make my own choicesssss."

"This was your choice, doll. You told me to stop you once you hadn't slept for so long that you started considering inventing weird or dangerous things."

"A tree with flamethrowers as branches was a brilliant idea," Tony muttered petulantly - since that was the point where JARVIS had started objecting, he guessed they simply hadn't been able to appreciate the brilliance of it. They'd be able to defend themselves!

By now, they'd gotten to their bedroom, though Tony made sure to pout fiercely in Bucky's direction to make it clear he did not agree with this course of action.

"You can't make me sleep," he insisted, although he had to admit the bed was pretty soft.

"Can't make you, no, but you did tell me how much a massage relaxed you. Maybe even enough to get you to nod off for a bit."

Bucky still sounded far too amused, and Tony scowled. "Past Tony is _such a traitor_." He probably _would_ fall asleep if Bucky actually gave him a massage, since it was one of his definite weak spots. Especially when given by someone he trusted, like his boyfriend.

A chuckle was his only reply before gentle hands started rubbing his back, and _oh_, he hadn't realized how much that muscle had been bothering him. Or that one. Or...

Maybe he could forgive Bucky and Past Tony, just a bit. Because while it wasn't coffee, this was... Well, he wouldn't say _better_, but...

There was something special about the affection he could feel in the way Bucky touched him, something that made him feel warm to his core. Warm, and somehow very very heavy...

And with that thought, he finally drifted off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In case anyone is worried - Tony himself is very well-aware he becomes some combination of 'mad scientist' and 'Scrat but with coffee instead of an acorn' when he's sleep-deprived. Both JARVIS cutting him off and Bucky maneuvering him into a bed are things he's previously, when fully aware, consented to.
> 
> I hope you liked it, and feel free to come say 'hi' on my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/).


	7. Isolation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An introspective piece for Tony's MIT time, literally right before he meets James Rhodes, for day 7 of Whumptober.

Taking another sip from his beer, Tony listened to the party raging inside. He knew no one would come looking for him, not unless they wanted something from him.

Despite the amount of people around, he felt utterly and completely alone.

He knew he'd been lucky - being born to the Stark family came with a _lot_ of wealth and privilege, and he had been aware of that from a very young age on. He had opportunities that most others would only ever be able to dream of, even more so because he was white, male, and highly intelligent.

And yet...

There were days he hated it. There were days it was particularly bad and he wished he could have traded it all for one person who would love him. Just one.

His father was disgusted with him, his mother did not know how to handle him, and while he knew Jarvis cared about him, Tony also knew that his job had to come first. And he'd learned very early on that the people who would like to claim to be his 'friends' only did so until they'd gotten what they wanted from him. Whether it was money, or fame...

Tony _knew_ he should feel lucky with everything he had - it was a lot, he was aware. And it felt stupid, almost childish, to want love. If his father heard him think it, Tony knew he wouldn't like Howard's reaction.

But he couldn't help it. Although he was old enough by now that he should have grown out of this kind of infantile dreaming, he'd still _hoped_ that, perhaps, he could find someone at MIT who would care. Someone who would be there for him without him having to pay them for it somehow. Someone who would love him without him having to change himself so much he didn’t even recognize himself. Someone to be himself with, to feel comfortable with, to hug without there being expectations of _more_.

Bitterly, he took another sip.

Stupid dreams. He was _sixteen_ now, and _far_ too old for this. He wasn’t six anymore, was almost an adult, and the days of talking to his Captain America poster and wishing for a friend of his own should have been in the distant past. But no, here he was, staying away from the party just to look at the stars and feel sad for himself.

No one cared. So what? He’d dealt with it for sixteen years, he’d deal with it for the rest of his life. He should be happy with all the things he _did_ have, all of the advantages life had given him, instead of mourning the _one_ thing he couldn’t have.

His father had been right - he _was_ pathetic.

Just as he raised his beer for another sip, considering perhaps going back inside and finding someone to at least help him feel a little less lonely tonight, there was a voice from behind him. “Hey, aren’t you a bit young to be drinking?”

Turning, he saw an African-American guy perhaps a few years older than he was.

Unbeknownst to him, the falling star above him faded away, its job done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to come check out my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) as well if you'd like.


	8. Stab Wound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My fill for the 8th day of Whumptober, in which I start going a bit more AU than usual. Bucky is a doctor and Tony's a little less rich and famous.

By now, Bucky had been a doctor for a while, and he had plenty of experience being professional.

Which didn't explain the instant rush of attraction he felt when he saw his newest patient. True, Bucky was pansexual. Also true, his patient was undeniably gorgeous. But there were boundaries, and he’d never once had a problem with them.

Until Anthony Stark was brought in on a stretcher, bleeding from a stab wound to his arm and still looking bright and lively.

Just as quickly as his feelings appeared, they were crushed when he was immediately followed in by a beautiful redhead that was obviously beyond worried about him. The brief hope of the slightest family resemblance was quickly dashed, and the way the two of them spoke to one another made their mutual fondness more than clear.

“I’m just saying it won’t take more than a few stitches,” Mr. Stark was saying, smiling reassuringly at his companion.

“And I’m saying you’re staying here until they say you’re safe to go and not a moment sooner,” she replied instantly, looking sternly down at him. Then, her attention turned to Bucky. “You’ll take good care of him, won’t you?”

Pushing his personal issues aside, Bucky nodded at her, trying for his best and most professional smile. “Certainly ma’am. I’m Dr. Barnes, and I’ll be taking care of Mr. Stark for the evening.”

“Good luck on that,” she told him wryly, casting an amused look at the man in question. “He’s never liked hospitals.”

“He’s _right here_, thank you very much,” he huffed, eyes narrowed. Bucky wanted to smack himself when the phrase ‘offended kitten’ popped into his head. He was a _professional_.

“Of course, Mr. Stark,” he nodded. The full force of his patient’s eyes hit him, and it took everything he had to pretend to be unaffected. “Let’s have a look, shall we? See if we need to send this through to our radiology department to see if anything vital was hit, or if you were right and a couple of stitches will do the trick.”

“I swear, I could’ve just gone home and put a band-aid on it,” Mr. Stark shrugged.

Bucky wasn’t too surprised to see his partner puff up with anger. “You got _stabbed_, Tony,” she hissed. “That requires a little more than a _band-aid_.”

“It was a light stabbing?” he tried, wilting a little in the face of her obvious rage.

Telling a woman she sounded like a balloon furiously deflating was likely to get him killed, which was why Bucky made a note to himself _never_ to mention the thought crossing his mind in that moment. “I am going to get myself something to drink, and _you_ are going to let this nice doctor take care of you, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear,” was the immediate reply. Despite his laconic treatment of his wound, Mr. Stark was clearly not foolish enough to treat his partner the same way.

“_Honestly_,” she muttered, stalking out on heels so high Bucky rather worried about her ankles.

“Sorry about that,” Mr. Stark spoke up once she was far enough away that she couldn’t hear him. “I tried telling her it wasn’t so bad, but she insisted on coming to the hospital.”

“How about you let me be the judge of that, huh?” Bucky said with a grin he only partially had to force as he turned his attention to the wound. As much as he was disappointed that nothing could come of his feelings, the byplay of the two of them arguing couldn’t help but amuse him. (And if he kind of wanted to banter with Mr. Stark the same way, well, that was _really_ not something he should be thinking about.)

Only a few minutes ago, Bucky had mused over the way Mr. Stark’s attention had just about stunned him. It had nothing on the grin now on that gorgeous face, however, or the way his brown eyes seemed to glow with an inner light. “I suppose you did study for this,” the man joked.

“Years,” he managed to joke back in return. “Multiple years of blood, sweat, tears and study debt to tell you that you need a _little_ more than a band-aid for this.”

“Aww,” he pouted, and that shouldn’t be so attractive on a full-grown man. “Only a little though, right?”

He shouldn’t be flirting with a taken man, Bucky knew, but it was hard to resist when the taken man was this attractive. “So eager to get out of here, Mr. Stark?”

“Like Pepper said - I’m not too fond of hospitals,” he admitted with a half-shrug. Then, he grinned at Bucky again, making his heart rate go up a little more than was entirely comfortable. “Though if all doctors were this handsome, they wouldn’t be half as bad.”

And that was outright flirting, wasn’t it? Except he should be with the woman he came in with - Pepper, he’d called her. Which meant he shouldn’t be flirting with Bucky, and if he did, he was not the kind of guy Bucky should _want_ to be flirting with.

Some of his thought process must’ve shown on his face, because Mr. Stark grimaced. “Sorry, I’ve been told I can be too much. Don’t mind me, just… thought you seemed interested, no biggie if you’re not. Didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable,” he rambled, seeming dejected more than anything.

Really, Bucky should just finish doing his job and let it go. But he found he couldn’t. “It’s not that… I just thought that you and your companion were…”

“Oh.” Brown eyes opened wide in realization. “You thought Pepper and I are… No, no, we’re friends, and colleagues, but we’re not together,” he explained, and it was odd how utterly _relieved_ Bucky felt at that.

And while he still had some stitches to do, once Tony Stark wasn’t his patient anymore… Well, he’d be free to ask him out then, wasn’t he? “Well then, I am afraid I do have to inform you that a relationship between a doctor and his patient is not allowed,” Bucky told him, continuing immediately when he noticed a faint hint of sadness on his face. “After those stitches are in, though…”

The smile he got in return made him worry he’d need a doctor of his own if he were to start a relationship with Tony Stark.

He thought that would be worth it, though.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked this! Feel free to come say hi at my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) if you want to :)


	9. Shackled

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the ninth day of Whumptober, I'm going even more AU - supernatural creatures! I hope you enjoy it.

The illegal trade of supernatural creatures had been becoming more popular lately. Tony had been aware of it, of course, and had tried his best to help prevent it as much as possible.

And now here he was, chained up along with an entire room full of cages filled with other creatures.

He _hated_ himself.

All of them were here because of him, _suffering_, because of him. And while Tony felt like he deserved to be here because of that, none of them did.

It had sounded so reasonable when Obie had suggested it. A way for creatures to look normal, to be able to walk the streets with everyone else without receiving any weird looks from humans. To be free.

While Tony had gotten very good at his humanoid transformation, he would admit that there was no way to pretend to be completely ‘normal’, and it did sound good. So he’d looked into it, and had eventually been able to invent a metal that made supernatural creatures human, for all intents and purposes. They lost anything that made them inherently supernatural - including strength and gifts.

He’d thought it brilliant. Finally, there was a way for all of them to blend in without trouble. It didn’t matter what the metal was shaped like - rings, necklaces, bracelets… There had even been a few belly rings and earrings.

This… was _not_ what he’d had in mind when making it.

But it was his fault, there was no doubt about it. The shackles on his wrists, as well as those of every other person in the room, made that more than clear.

There was no way of telling what kinds of creatures they all were - with the shackles, they all looked like regular humans, and had the same amount of strength. And Tony was the one responsible for it.

As tempting as it was, though, he wouldn’t bow his head, wouldn’t give in to despair and self-hatred. Instead, he’d get them all out of here, and then he would undo all of it even if it cost him his life. He’d get Obie, he’d undo his inventions, he’d make things _right_.

For now, though, he needed to free them all.

There wasn’t a lot to work with, and he didn’t have any of his usual draconic abilities. For years, he’d wondered if Howard had been right, and all of his so-called genius was just part of his supernatural heritage. Now, that heritage forcibly locked away behind his own invention, he knew for certain that he hadn’t been - it was all part of Tony himself.

“What are you doing?” the person in the cell next to him asked as he started to fiddle with his cuffs and the few things he’d managed to gather up over his time as a captive.

“Getting out,” he muttered, focusing mostly on what he was doing.

It appeared that their conversation had drawn the attention of others as well, because Tony was becoming increasingly aware of the eyes aimed at him. “Don’t you think we’ve tried?” another asked, doubtful.

Most of them had been here far longer than Tony had been, he was aware. Three weeks might have seemed like a long time, but they hadn’t yet brought in anyone else. He knew, from overhearing them, that they were gearing up for a big auction sometime soon. It had probably been the reason Obie had wanted to get rid of him now, so he’d be as far away as possible as soon as possible.

Too bad Obie had underestimated him severely.

The cuffs hissed as he poured the compound on them, heating up to a temperature that was painful on Tony’s currently human skin. As soon as they were off, though, no burn would remain, and so he could suffer through it.

“Did you just…?” he heard a murmur from one of the others.

He gritted his teeth, paying them no attention. Only a little more and he’d be out, and there would be no way for them to capture him ever again. The only reason Obie had managed this time was the fact that Tony himself had put on the necklace first, locking away the draconic powers that would allow him to resist _any_ metal being placed on him without his consent. He would not be making that mistake again.

With a final, agonizing burn, the cuffs fell off.

Tony grinned, baring his fangs. He was only barely humanoid anymore, covered in red and gold scales and with his tail and wings both out.

They would suffer.

“Wait, please don’t leave us here!” he could hear some of the others calling out as he easily broke through his cell - he might have been weak as a human, but the bars were no match for draconic strength.

Although he knew they wouldn’t believe it, he tried to assure them all with an “I’ll be right back, don’t worry”. That was alright, though. They didn’t need to believe him. They would see. And once he was done with the people that had trapped all of them, he would be back and able to take the time to set them all free, without being interrupted.

He would make this right.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to come say 'hi' on my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) if you want to!


	10. Unconscious

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The tenth day of Whumptober, and Tony and Bucky are in trouble. Not that Bucky is very aware of it, though...

For a regular, unenhanced human, Tony was in very good shape. It didn’t help that he had plenty of enhanced people to regularly compare himself with, and others who were just plain _younger_, but he did take some pride in his condition. The suit didn’t do everything for him, and he was still an engineer at the core.

But he had to admit that there were limits to his endurance. He didn’t like to admit as much, and he would push those limits if he felt it was needed, but they did exist.

And he was hitting those limits pretty hard at the moment.

It had been a few hours since escaping, and Bucky still hadn’t woken up from whatever they’d given him to keep him out. No doubt they’d thought he could be dangerous when actually awake, which would have been true. Unfortunately for them, they hadn’t considered Tony could be dangerous as well.

That had been their mistake, honestly. Except he just wanted Bucky to _wake up_.

“C’mon Snowflake,” he begged, breathing heavily with exhaustion. He wasn’t sure how much longer he could do this, but he also knew that he couldn’t let their kidnappers catch them again. So he was taking a brief break, hopefully waking Bucky up, and then they’d be on the move again. “Please wake up?”

But there was no movement, and Tony knew they had to move again.

Grimacing, he pulled Bucky back into the fireman hold he’d been using. Of everything he’d tried, it was the most sustainable while also keeping up his speed.

Every once in a while, between heavy breathing, he let out a faint “please”. He’d have talked to Bucky the entire way, but he simply didn’t have the energy for it. Not if he wanted to get them somewhere safer.

His muscles strained, but he gritted his teeth. He could do this. For once, _he_ could be the strong one in this relationship. For once, _he_ could do something for Bucky instead of the other way around. All he had to do was keep moving, no matter how much it hurt. One foot in front of the other, and again, and again.

Whimpering, Tony could feel the way his legs were shaking. But he didn’t have time to take another break, not so briefly after his previous one.

In the end, he didn’t have a choice. His exhaustion, Bucky’s weight, and the uneven ground finally won, and his ankle buckled underneath him. It took everything he had not to cry out at the pain, and he only barely managed to make sure he took the brunt of the fall and not Bucky.

“_Please,_” he whimpered, not caring how pathetic he sounded. He’d been walking for _hours_, exhausted and hurting and unsure of where to go. And now he wasn’t even sure he’d be able to carry his own weight anymore, let alone Bucky’s. He wasn’t sure if the ankle was broken or just sprained, but he had enough experience with either option that he knew things had just gotten a lot more difficult.

“Bucky, Snowflake, darling, sweetheart, _please_ wake up. I _need_ you,” he begged. But whatever they’d given him was strong enough to keep even a supersoldier down, and Tony buried his face into Bucky’s chest in an attempt to stave off the tears. “Please…”

There was no response.

“Alright, I’ve got this. _I’ve got this_. I am _Iron Man_. Pain does _not_ exist. I’m gonna get myself and my boyfriend to safety, and then he’s gonna wake up, and I’m gonna have him give me a massage, and there will be a warm bath, and I will tell Natasha to _decimate_ those assholes and she _will_, and I’ll get Clint to make me his special hot chocolate, and it will be _lovely_.” As he muttered to himself, he pushed himself up again on trembling arms. “Just a little more and everything will be back to the way it should be.”

Biting back his cry of pain, he pulled Bucky’s unconscious body onto his back again.

“Just a little more.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it, and please feel free to come say 'hi' on my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/).


	11. Stitches

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the 11th day of Whumptober, a bit of Science Bros! Warning ahead of time - I'm pretty busy up until Wednesday, so it's likely updates will be a bit shorter unless I get super inspired (which might happen).

"Brucie-bear?"

It was weird seeing Tony this hesitant, lingering at the door to the lab he'd provided for Bruce instead of waltzing in and owning the room.

That weirdness, as well as the fact that none of the Avengers had quite gotten over their protectiveness of Tony after the latest kidnapping attempt, was why Bruce instantly put down his tablet to give Tony all of his attention.

"What's up, Tony?"

He was glad he had when he noticed the way Tony was holding his side, where one of his largest wounds was.

Now concerned, Bruce slowly walked towards him. He had enough experience with Tony to know that too quick an approach could scare him off, however much he coated it in 'never mind, nothing's wrong', but the fact that Tony had approached him like this in the first place did mean something was wrong.

"I ehm... It's my stitches." Then, he lifted his hand slightly, and Bruce could see there was some blood on his hand. "Some of them tore."

Back when they hadn't known one another as well, he might've reacted with annoyance, might've asked Tony if he'd tried to do too much again even though he'd been told to rest and recover.

Now, he remained as calm as possible, heading for his suture kit instead of directly for Tony. "The Hulk room would probably be best for this?” It had been set up to be comfortable and peaceful, though the comfort was Bruce’s first concern. His friend was hardly at ease with receiving medical treatment, after all, and the fact that he’d voluntarily approached Bruce could already be counted as a miracle.

Tony remained silent as he sat down, seeming more downtrodden than Bruce had seen him before.

As Bruce set out his supplies, he tried to assess if anything was severely wrong. The dark circles under Tony’s eyes weren’t much darker than usual, though he did look a little pale and his eyes seemed a little dull.

“May I ask what happened?” he asked calmly, lifting up Tony’s shirt gently and exposing the wound. It looked like only a few of the stitches had been ripped, but the cut was big enough that it was still bleeding quite a bit. Bruce grabbed a few bandages and some disinfectant.

“It… I slept a bit restlessly,” Tony admitted, which Bruce took to mean he’d had a nightmare. He carefully kept his eyes averted to keep Tony talking. It took some time, but he had patience aplenty, and work to keep him busy. If he was willing to tell, he would continue eventually.

Finally, just as Bruce had nearly resigned himself to the thought that Tony seemed to prefer to keep it to himself, he spoke up. His voice was quiet, and Bruce had to strain a little to hear it, but he didn’t mind. “Not much, just… Kinda got reminded of… previous experiences. With people trying to abduct me.” He trailed off after that, but it was enough.

“Makes sense,” Bruce admitted. If he was honest, he didn’t have much experience himself, and it made it difficult to know what to say in order to help. So, instead of trying to lie his way through it, he simply offered up a supportive smile. “If there’s anything I can do to help, I hope you know you can let me know and I’ll do my best.”

It seemed like it was the right thing to say, because Tony returned his smile gratefully. “This… This is actually already helping. Thank you.”

“Anytime,” Bruce promised, meaning it. For Tony, he’d try his utmost best.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it, and please feel free to come check out my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) if you want to!


	12. "Don't Move"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For day 12, some suffering for Tony and Bucky and Clint trying to distract him. Thanks for still reading!

When awareness returned, Bucky's face was the first thing he saw.

"Hey doll." He was smiling, but Tony knew him well enough to know that something was wrong. "Good to have you back with us."

How had he gotten here?

Vaguely, Tony remembered an alien ship. It'd had weapons, hadn't it?

"Did we win?" he asked, trying to see past Bucky.

"Don't move, doll. Don't worry - we won." And while he was telling the truth, Tony knew there was more to it. He could see the strain on Bucky's face, and the way he was paler than usual.

"What happened?"

"You know there was an alien attack, right?" Tony managed a tiny nod, but it was enough. "They had some kind of advanced weaponry we couldn't get past at first, but you took it out. Unfortunately, they decided that made you the primary threat, so they... shot at you. Fortunately, with the weaponry disabled, we managed to finish things up."

As he was awake longer, Tony was starting to become more and more aware. And while he _knew_ there was more that Bucky wasn't telling him, he was starting to think that might be for the better.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know why he couldn't feel most of his body, or why he had the faintest inkling that that might be for the better.

Just as he was trying to scour his mind for a lighthearted subject, Clint's face appeared beside Bucky's. "Good morning, sleeping beauty." His grin appeared only slightly more believable than Bucky's. Tony appreciated the attempt. "Lemme tell you, no amount of sleep will make that face any prettier."

"Can't improve perfection," he volleyed back, noticing the way his quick reply lightened both of their expressions ever-so-slightly.

It was hard to miss that something was wrong though. Despite not feeling pain, he didn't feel quite right. It was a disconcerting, uncomfortable cold that went bone-deep and that made him want to try and _move_, to get away from it somehow. But he trusted Bucky, trusted that not moving was probably the best idea at the moment.

"Everyone else okay?" he asked instead. Aside from tired, worried, and a little bruised, both Bucky and Clint seemed fine, but he hadn't seen the others.

"Just fine," Bucky assured him immediately. He didn't appear to be lying.

Beside him, Clint nodded. "Nat is working with Pepper on easing everyone's minds, and Steve got Sam and JARVIS to help deal with clean-up efforts. Thor is doing double duty wrangling Hulk and supplying whatever he knows about those aliens. They have collectively whined about how much work this all is and how they never realized how much you usually do, so feel free to gloat about that later."

Tony managed a grin. "Does that mean you're stuck doing SHIELD debrief?"

A small huff of laughter escaped him at seeing the hilariously horrified look on Clint's face. "Awww, debrief, no," he whined. Then, he smiled hopefully. "Maybe I can still switch with Thor!"

"Good luck on that," Bucky went along with the joke, though it was clear his heart wasn't in it. "I'll admit, having Thor debrief Fury could be funny, though I'm not sure I want to know what kind of backstory you'd come up with for the aliens."

"I'd make up something appropriately epic, of course," he tried to claim. Tony felt his own eyebrow raise critically at the same time he saw Bucky's skeptical look. "I would!"

"A race trying to take over the world because they want to steal our coffee isn't _epic_." It wasn't his best quip, but Tony thought he could be forgiven, considering it seemed rather more difficult to think clearly than it should be.

Fortunately, Clint seemed to agree, chuckling. "Chocolate, then?" he tried.

"I mean, if _I_ were an alien race..." Bucky trailed off with a faint grin.

"Just because you are a chocolate addict, doesn't mean everyone is," Tony joked affectionately. Whenever Bucky was having a bad day, all he had to do was bring the soldier some chocolate to make him smile again.

The reminder of it made him smile, though it felt oddly exhausting. Everything did, if he was being honest. Which, to be fair, didn't really surprise him.

Not when he'd just recalled the size of the approaching spears that had been the last thing he'd seen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If it helps, one of JARVIS' first actions was to call in Helen Cho and her Cradle, so he _will_ be fine in the end. It's just gonna take some time.
> 
> Also, feel free to come check out my X if you want.


	13. Adrenaline

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a lot for the thirteenth day, but it's something!

Living with the Avengers was honestly going to kill him one day. His heart was not gonna be able to take the constant adrenaline rush from various causes and just beat straight out of his chest.

Both Natasha and Clint were assassins, and often moved too quietly for Tony to hear them coming, meaning they’d just about given him heart attacks by sneaking up on him. He wanted to think it was accidental, but he wasn’t sure there was a lot about that that they did accidentally, and he hadn’t missed their playful smirks.

Then there was Thor, who had no concept of an indoor voice (or, alternately, pretended not to). Which meant that Tony could be going about his life peacefully, only to be startled into a heart attack by the so-called God of Thunder suddenly and very loudly threatening the toaster with dismemberment for somehow toasting his beloved pop-tarts wrong.

Bruce was peaceful overall, and not much given to excitement. Hulk was more so, but Tony had to admit he didn’t share the others’ hesitance when it came to Big Green. No, Bruce was more likely to kill him with exciting science, the thrill of a new breakthrough enough to make Tony’s heart beat faster every time.

In theory, Steve shouldn’t have been a problem. Now that they’d stopped arguing, conversations were far easier, more amicable and less stressful. It was Howard’s fault, really, the way Tony kept wanting to prove himself, to be good enough in front of Steve somehow, even though he knew the man himself was probably unaware of Tony’s issues.

So yeah, they were likely to end up killing him one day, and he’d already made note with JARVIS that he wanted it on his gravestone that it was all their fault, preferably in a witty matter. ‘_I **told** you I had heart problems_’ was currently his first choice.

But as he looked around at where they were all gathered in front of the television, trying to get the most correct answers on the quiz, he had to admit it was more than worth it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed, and feel free to come say hi on my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) as well if you want to :)


	14. Tear-stained

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out, I ended up inspired. For the fourteenth day of Whumptober, another WinterIron story. It's an AU of when they are younger, and be careful - there are some mentions of child abuse in here, because Howard.

The first thing he noticed was that Tony had been crying. His eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks were still wet. Not to mention that his lips were all nearly bitten through, which was one of Tony's unfortunate tendencies when he was feeling bad.

The second thing, and that _really_ pissed Bucky off, was the bruise that was starting to grow on Tony's cheek.

Part of him wanted to snarl, wanted to insist Tony tell him what had happened and who had done this so he could _destroy_ them. But he knew that wasn't what Tony needed right now, and it wasn't like he couldn't guess who'd hit him.

"C'mon in," he told his boyfriend as calmly as he could, stepping back. He knew Tony had probably noticed his barely contained rage, but there was only so much he could do.

"Thanks," Tony mumbled, head held down as he entered Bucky's apartment.

Wordlessly, Bucky headed to the freezer and grabbed one of the cold packs he sometimes used after boxing. He hoped it'd help with the physical pain at least.

Then he grabbed one of his softest blankets and sat down next to his boyfriend, wrapping the both of them up.

With a soft whine that always made Bucky want to take on the world if it meant no one else would ever be able to hurt him, Tony curled trustingly into him.

For a few minutes, the two of them just breathed together.

Bucky could feel the exact moment Tony's tears started up again, his chest slowly getting wet as Tony's breathing became quicker, interspersed with the occasional hiccup. "I just don't get it," he whimpered, sounding absolutely desolate. "He wants me to build weapons, and they have to be _great_. But then I do and he _hates_ it. And I just..."

"It's not fair," Bucky agreed, stroking Tony's hair the way he knew would soothe him. "_He's_ not fair."

Of course, he could guess exactly what Howard's problem was. He demanded that Tony be good enough, and smart enough, and _worthy_ enough to be his son and heir. But on the other hand, Tony was all of that and far more, and the man couldn't stand knowing how much better than him Tony was.

And in the end, Tony was the one suffering for it.

As much as he wished there was something he could do, Bucky knew there wasn’t a thing he could do. Not against Howard Stark, of all people. Nothing legal, at least. So instead all he could do was sit on his couch, holding his boyfriend as he cried and hoping it would help him feel at least a little bit better.

Finally, Tony’s breathing started to ease up again. His breaths still hitched every once in a while, but he had relaxed some. “Thank you,” he sighed, hoarse.

“Anytime, doll,” Bucky reassured him. “Wish it wasn’t necessary, but I’ll always be there for you if you need me.”

When Tony raised his head to smile at him, Bucky noticed that the bruise had become even clearer. The cold pack did seem to have helped with the swelling, though. And despite the puffy eyes and the red nose and the bruise on his cheek, he was still the most gorgeous person Bucky had ever seen.

“I love you,” Tony admitted quietly, eyes soft as he looked up at Bucky and a faint smile on his face.

“And I love you, doll.” As gently as possible, Bucky stroked a hand over Tony’s injured cheek, pressing his lips against the bruise tenderly. “So very much. I wish I could take you away from all of this, keep you safe…”

“You _do_,” Tony insisted. “I’m so much safer with you.”

“Except when you have to go back.” Most of the time, Tony’s parents didn’t care where he was, so Tony spent most of his time at Bucky’s apartment. It kept him out of the way of most of the incidental violence, and the moments where Howard was drunk and looking for someone to help get rid of his frustration.

It was moments like tonight, where Howard demanded Tony’s presence and proof of an invention, that he simply couldn’t do a thing against.

After all of the stories Tony had told him of people trying to arrange for intervention of some kind, after which they disappeared from his life and nothing ever happened, Bucky knew better than to try. At least this way, he could be there for all of the other moments.

He didn’t like wishing that someone would die, but when it came to Howard? He couldn’t even feel guilty.

In his arms, Tony yawned.

“How about we go to bed?” he suggested.

“Yeah, that… that sounds lovely,” Tony agreed. Now that he was cried out and the emotions had faded a little, the exhaustion hit twice as hard. It was something Bucky was familiar with as well. He just hoped Tony would be able to sleep without his bruise bothering him too much, let alone nightmares.

Considering the exhaustion, they both made quick work of preparing for bed. The only thing Bucky _did_ take time for was to gently rub a bruise cream on Tony’s cheek - the good it would do, both for the pain and for the healing, was worth the extra time investment.

Then they were in bed together, Tony curled up tightly in Bucky’s arms like he preferred. And like Bucky preferred, too, if he had to be honest. This way, he felt like he could keep Tony safe from everything that would try to hurt him, keep him sheltered and protected.

Tension he hadn’t even been aware of disappeared as he felt the way Tony snuggled into his arms, warm and trusting. He honestly wouldn’t mind staying like this forever.

“I love you, sweetheart,” he whispered into Tony’s hair, pressing a kiss to the top of his head.

“And I love you, so much,” Tony muttered into his chest. “_So much_.” Bucky could feel the way Tony pressed a kiss of his own over his heart, and warmth filled him.

Forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you all liked it, and feel free to come say 'hi' on my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) as well!


	15. Scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the fifteenth day, some Avengers as family. I hope you all like it!

It happened because of Bucky, to be honest. Bucky, his laundry list of issues, and his insecurities about his arm and (possibly even more so) the scarring around his shoulder.

His knock-off serum had taken care of all of his other scars, but this one was so bad, as well as constantly agitated by the metal arm, that it simply didn't heal. And it had become more than obvious that it was a source of discomfort for him, in a team that seemed relatively flawless.

Of course, Steve's serum meant that he had no scars to show. Natasha's knock-off of a knock-off meant that only the bad ones remained, which was why she had about three scars overall, and by now they all knew about them. Thor, as an Asgardian with a golden apple in him to keep him fit and flawless, had no true scars either. Bruce had lost all of his scars when he got the Hulk and, since he pretty much transformed the moment he got injured (or right before), gained no new ones either.

That still left three human members on the team, though. And together, they'd come up with a 'game' of sorts.

JARVIS had scanned all of their bodies for scars. They were allowed to take ones out of the equation that they didn't want to discuss, and Tony's Arc Reactor and its scarring were obvious and well-known enough that it was immediately disqualified. But other than that, there was a complete registry of their scars.

All of the others then got to see the registry and images of the particular scars, upon which they placed their bets. They guessed whether it was an accidental or violent cause for one point. Then there was a more specific cause that, if they got it right, counted for two points. Finally, they could guess a more complete backstory for it that could earn them three points if they got it correct, though everyone estimated that would be fairly rare, considering all of their lives.

Because he had the least scars, they'd started with Sam. Out of them all, he'd lived the most regular life so far, meaning it wasn't the most interesting round. Natasha, who was _extremely_ good at guessing logical causes of injuries, beat all of them. It wasn't the most exciting round, but it was a good way of getting into the game, and it was obvious to see that Bucky was starting to relax a bit.

Then there was Clint, who had some interesting scars. Hilariously enough, Tony actually got the most points during this round because he'd guessed the most ridiculous backstories. And because this was _Clint_, they often turned out to be correct, to the amused horror of the others.

Finally, it was Tony's turn, and the others quickly found out that his scars were a bit of a minefield. The one that looked distinctly like a bullet wound had been caused by an engineering accident. The weirdly shaped one that everyone had guessed had been an engineering accident because _what else could it be?_ had turned out to be from when he was kidnapped as a teenager and they'd tried to get information about SI from him.

He was telling them about one of his bigger scars, one that honestly looked like he'd been stabbed somehow, but which was apparently the result of one of his and Rhodey's adventures at MIT. Honestly, after this entire game, all of the other Avengers were more than convinced that, however well Rhodes pretended to be the one in possession of the single brain cell the two shared, there was no way either of them had more than half a brain cell during their entire time at MIT, and that half brain cell was used to pass their classes and nothing more.

Suddenly, just as Tony was detailing how they'd thought blowing up their experiment would somehow prove their theory, the unexpected happened. Hoped for, of course, but the sudden sound of Bucky's laughter still managed to surprise them all in the best way.

Tony grinned, though he didn't stop retelling the story. And if he added a few embellishments, well, who would blame him? If it made Bucky laugh like that, he'd make up a comedy routine if he had to. There'd been more than enough sadness in the guy's life - he deserved to be smiling.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you had some fun reading this ^_^ You're also free to come check out my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) if you want.


	16. Pinned Down

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sixteenth day of Whumptober, it's another shorter one, though I do like it myself. Hope you do, too!

“Should we surrender?”

Steve’s jaw clenched with stubbornness. “We are _not_ surrendering,” he insisted. “They will _not_ beat us. _Not like this_.”

“We have _nowhere to go_, Steve,” Clint insisted. “This isn’t a fight we should’ve started, and you _know_ it. We’re out of ammo, and nowhere close to get any. We’re lucky we’ve got cover now, but…”

“The moment we leave it, we’re done for,” Sam agreed, though he sounded no happier about it.

They watched as Steve clenched his fists, trying to think of a way, _any_ way, they could still win this. It didn’t look good, though.

“As much as I dislike agreeing with them, I must admit it seems we are at a disadvantage here,” Thor gravely told them. His hammer was mere feet away, but it might as well be an entire world for all that it would be of no use to them. “It would, perhaps, be best to admit defeat and submit to the tender mercy of our enemies.”

“_Tender mercy?_” As much as he agreed they wouldn’t be winning this fight, Clint had no illusions. There would be no mercy, not for them.

But despite everything, Steve retained his determination. “Clint’s right. There will be no such thing. And wouldn’t it be better to go down fighting, to be defeated honorably rather than to take the cowardly way out?”

It seemed to spur Thor on at least, but both Clint and Sam looked at him dubiously.

“Yeah, you wanna go down with honor, you go for it,” Sam told him dryly, “but I’m not taking any more hits because _you_ don’t know when to quit.”

“Same,” Clint agreed instantly. When Steve looked at the both of them, betrayed, he glared at the supersoldier. “We _don’t_ have your super healing factor, or your super stubbornness. What we have is _common sense_, and while I’ll freely admit we should’ve used that a bit sooner so we wouldn’t have ended up like this, at this point surrendering is about the only way I can see of getting out of this without ending up dead or worse.”

“You think they’ll be kind?” Steve asked dubiously.

“I’m mostly hoping they’ll be happy enough to have won that the consequences won’t be too bad,” Clint shrugged.

“So you won’t stand with me? Try one more time, one more push, and see if it can make the difference?” It was clear that Steve wasn’t going to surrender - it went against everything that he was to stop going before he’d given everything he had.

Both Clint and Sam shook their heads. “Sorry, Steve. This is the only way.”

“Thor? Are you with me?” Steve asked, back straight and eyes intent.

“One final stand,” Thor agreed, nodding. He held out a fist, which Steve touched with his own. “Together.”

With horrified awe, Clint and Sam watched as they both jumped out behind the sides of the couch with a loud war cry that was abruptly cut off by two pillows hitting the two of them straight in the faces, hard enough they both stumbled backwards a bit. It left them unstable enough that the next pillows took them down instantly, their war cry now transformed into a cry of pain.

Before they could be struck again, they both rolled back behind the couch, curling up to make sure any other shots wouldn’t hit any vital parts.

“Ready to surrender now?” Sam asked the both of them dryly, arms crossed and eyebrow raised. With two superhumans and a guy known for his impeccable aim, he’d thought he’d picked the right side in this fight.

As it turned out, he’d severely underestimated how much damage a team-up of Bucky, Natasha and Tony could do.

“We’ll surrender,” Steve _finally_ conceded, gingerly feeling his reddened nose.

Definitely the wrong side.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ^_^
> 
> Though I do wonder if I'm doing this whole 'Whumptober' thing wrong... xD Ah well :D
> 
> Also feel free to come say 'hi' on my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) if you want!


	17. "Stay with me"; Muffled Scream; Asphyxiation; Trembling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, instead of an update per day, today is a bigger one. It combines the prompts for days 17, 18, 19 and 20 of Whumptober with a WinterIron twist and the Winter Soldier as a separate character/identity.
> 
> Be careful - there is some (fairly graphical) violence in this, including murder. If that's not your cup of tea, it's probably best to turn around right now.

It happened so suddenly that there wasn’t anything to do. One moment, it was a regular day where they were calmly wandering the streets, discussing where they should go for dinner.

The next, there was a dart sticking out of Bucky’s neck and he was fading fast.

Reacting quickly, Tony made sure he didn’t hit the ground too roughly as he fell unconscious, pressing the alert button on the side of his watch at the same time. Considering the efficiency, it wasn’t likely to get them help in time, but at least the others would know something was up and hopefully manage to get something set up.

When the men got out of the van, they were wearing masks to make sure they were unrecognizable. But Tony knew that insignia, _knew_ he couldn’t let HYDRA get Bucky back. Not like this.

So he fought, going at them with everything he had. It became clear that they weren’t after him, not at all - if he’d let them, they’d have dragged Bucky with them and left Tony right there on the street to look after them and worry. But he didn’t let that happen, using every single technique any of the other Avengers had ever taught him to make sure he _did not_ get separated from Bucky.

In the end, realizing they needed to get away, they cursed and threw him into the van as well, into the same cage that had been intended for just Bucky.

It was a tight fit, and it left Tony unable to fight them any more as they locked it behind them, but at least he was still with Bucky. And as long as they were together, they could figure out some way to escape, hopefully.

(And if not, well, Tony wouldn’t have been able to live with himself if he’d just let them take Bucky.)

Even though he’d been prepared for it, it still hurt when they dragged him out of the cage, prepared as they were for his resistance and too many of them around to fight. He curled into himself as they kicked at him, trying to keep them from getting at his chest and face. Silently, he suspected some of them were getting in some revenge for some of the hits he’d managed earlier.

He knew there wouldn’t be anything he could do, not if they decided to drag him away. There might only have been five of them earlier, that had to deal with getting Bucky off the street as quickly as possible and that also had to contend with Tony’s fighting, but they had a lot more time and a lot more people now.

So he was grateful when he was dragged to the same room Bucky was, though they handcuffed him to the cot in there while they put Bucky’s unconscious body on the other side, where some special (and probably super-strength resistant) cuffs had been attached to the wall.

Unfortunately, they didn’t leave them alone. Instead, there were three men standing inside the door and no doubt some reserve outside.

It could have been anywhere between a few minutes to an hour before Bucky started stirring - considering his tension, Tony honestly couldn’t tell, and it wasn’t like it was really important anyway.

The moment Bucky opened his eyes, one of the men started speaking. “_Желание_… _Ржавый_…”

“No,” he groaned, shaking his head. It was obvious he was still affected by whatever they’d used to knock him out, since he barely even managed to struggle against the chains like he obviously wanted.

“_Семнадцать_…”

“Bucky, stay with me,” Tony implored, even though he knew it probably wouldn’t help. Not if they had the trigger words. “Stay with me, please.”

As much as he didn’t think it would help, clearly HYDRA thought differently. He grunted as one of them hit him, hard, making his head smack into the cot roughly. Then, before he could even try to get Bucky’s attention again, the other shoved a gag into his mouth.

“_Рассвет_…”

Though his words were muffled through the gag, Tony didn’t give up on trying to get Bucky’s attention, calling out his name. It seemed to be working when, rather than weakly struggling against the chains, Bucky looked at him instead, eyes pained.

“_Печь_…”

Unfortunately, HYDRA seemed to notice as much as well. Before Tony could even try to avoid it, a solid boot came down on his lower leg. He couldn’t help but scream into the gag as he could feel the bones breaking.

“_Девять_…”

His breathing came in gasps, made more difficult by the gag blocking his airways and his eyes and nose filling up due to the pain. He refused to cry, though, _refused_ to give Goons One and Two the satisfaction. Instead, he clenched his teeth around the gag, trying his best to steady his breathing so he wouldn’t end up suffocating.

“_Добросердечный_…”

Bucky was trying to pull out his chains one more, except now it was to get to Tony. There was no doubt he could still hear the words the asshole was saying, but it wasn’t something he was _focusing_ on anymore.

“_Возвращение на Родину_…”

It took everything Tony had not to whimper at the pain rushing through him in time with his heartbeat. Instead, stubbornly, he locked eyes with Bucky, saying everything he couldn’t through the gag in his mouth. _You can do this. I’m here for you. Please stay with me. Don’t let them take you again. We can do this. I am not leaving you._

“_Один_…”

_Please, Bucky… Don’t leave me, either._

“_Грузовой вагон_…”

Considering how warm Bucky’s eyes usually were, it was eerie to see how flat they went the moment those final words were spoken. He wasn’t completely unfamiliar - the inquisitive look was still obviously there, though less curious and more analytical. His face had gone still as well, no emotion allowed to shine through anymore.

More than his broken leg, the broken look in Bucky’s eyes made Tony want to cry, and he trembled with the effort not to. It had taken so long to get him comfortable around the Avengers, to get him to trust that HYDRA wouldn’t just be able to get a hold on him again, and here they were.

And there was nothing Tony could do except hope that there was something of Bucky left, enough that it would make HYDRA lose their hold on him enough.

“_Солдат_?” It was the asshole that had been saying the trigger words out loud, not happy with being ignored.

Some of Tony’s hope died when Bucky - no, the Winter Soldier - instantly replied. “_Я готов отвечать_.” His voice was nearly as flat as his eyes, though Tony couldn’t help but notice how those gray eyes flicked back to him briefly before focusing once again on the guy that should be able to command him now.

Tony wanted to smack the smirk off the HYDRA asshole’s face, but had to settle for a glare that could have burned him alive.

“Very good,” Asshole said, grinning as he looked straight at Tony. He was fully confident he had Bucky under control now, as evidenced by the fact that he walked straight over to undo the cuffs. Disappointingly, Bucky did not spontaneously attack him, instead standing up slowly.

His normal grace was still obvious, though much like everything else, it seemed more calculated now. There was no unnecessary movement, no casual twitches, no tapping his thumb against his fingers the way Bucky usually did when standing still (or tapping his fingers against Tony’s hand when he was holding it).

“Now…” Tony _really_ didn’t like the look in Asshole’s eyes as he looked down at him. “Break his other leg.”

He couldn’t help his slight flinch at that, no matter how much he didn’t want to show weakness. The broken leg was painful enough on its own, but the idea of _Bucky_ being the one to break the other one…

For a few long moments, the Winter Soldier just looked at him, assessing. Then, just as calmly, he turned to his ‘handler’. “_Нет_.”

It felt like everyone in the room stopped breathing at that, tension rising quickly. Never before had the Winter Soldier outright refused, not like this, and it was clear HYDRA had no idea how to deal with it.

To be fair, neither did Tony, but since no one was breaking his other leg, he was fine riding this one out from the side.

“What!?” Tony honestly could have told Asshole that getting pissed at the _Winter Soldier_ might not be the best idea when he didn’t seem to have full control of him, but clearly that hadn’t occurred to him. And Tony himself was too busy trying to breathe through his pain to be able to do all that much. “I said, _break his other leg_!”

Before any of them could even react, the Winter Soldier had moved, metal hand closing around Asshole’s neck.

Goons One and Two jumped into motion, but not nearly quick enough. The Soldier grabbed the gun from the guy’s belt, shooting both of them straight through the forehead before they’d even been able to aim their own guns.

In the meantime, he was still choking Asshole, who was starting to look increasingly purple as he tried to grab at the Soldier’s metal arm. It had no effect, its strength far too much for a regular human to be able to do anything against it, and slowly his struggles grew weaker.

Tony couldn’t say he felt any regret when Asshole joined Goons One and Two on the floor. He wasn’t too sure what to do about the Winter Soldier, though, who appraised him carefully before approaching.

He tried to still his trembling as much as possible - the Soldier had said no, had refused to listen to the guy who’d just recited all of his code words, and had just taken all of them no. After being told to hurt Tony. So he tried to remind himself as much as possible that the Soldier, despite everything else, had just refused to hurt him.

The Soldier was astonishingly gentle as he took the gag out of Tony’s mouth, kneeling down so they were at almost the same height. Then, without saying a word, he looked down at the cuffs keeping Tony tied to the cot and _yanked_, ripping them loose from the cot without hurting Tony’s wrists.

Before he could even start to think of what to say or do, the Soldier himself spoke up, sounding far more hesitant than he had before.. “_Лучик_?”

He couldn’t help his blush at that. Being called a ray of sunshine by the Winter Soldier was about the last thing he’d been expecting. “What’s up, Winter Wonderland?” he asked, trying for casual. The fact that he sounded like his throat had been sandpapered probably didn’t help, but he thought he pulled it off admirably.

And when the Soldier said “_я готов отвечать_” again, it sounded less strained and more like he was _choosing_ to let Tony be the one to decide.

It was the biggest show of trust Tony could’ve ever imagined, and he was determined not to let the Soldier down. Not after what he’d just done for Tony, after making his own decision and turning away from HYDRA for Tony. And when they got back to the rest of the Avengers, they were going to figure this entire thing out, Tony and Bucky and the Soldier together.

They’d figure it out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it! Feel free to come check out my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) as well :)


	18. Laced Drink

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the 21st day of Whumptober, please be careful if you're triggered by mentions of drugging someone's drink for the purpose of taking advantage of them. A college AU this time, with all of the Avengers attending the same College and becoming friends. It's also pre-WinterIron, but it's not super prominent.

Initially, they hadn't been too sure about Tony Stark.

They knew _of_ him, of course - everyone on campus did. But the things they'd heard weren't generally good, and then there were the pictures...

But then he'd ended up taking one of the same business classes as Phil and Natasha's friend Pepper, and to their collective astonishment, a few weeks later she ended up bringing him to one of their gatherings.

As hesitant as they all were, they tried to keep an open mind - if _Pepper_ liked him, then he couldn’t be too bad, right?

And he wasn’t. He really, _really_ wasn’t. In contrast with everything they’d heard about him, he ended up being nice, and funny, and incredibly sweet. It was an effort to make sure he didn’t pay for everything, and every single time he responded as though they were some kind of saints for not making him pay. Even his intelligence, which had been rumored to be a lot thanks to his father’s money, was more than obvious.

All of them were somewhat disturbed with the difference between the rumors and the actual kind of person Tony was. It wasn’t hard to tell that the things that were said about him, both behind his back and to his face, affected Tony negatively.

Whenever people responded negatively to him, there was an almost imperceptible flinch. He acted like he brushed it off, but he was always quieter for the rest of the day, more withdrawn.

That, combined with the fact that he was actually a little younger than them despite working on his second doctorate, left the entire group rather protective of him. And it wasn’t even like they needed to do all that much - Bucky, Natasha and Pepper had glares that would chase even the most persistent idiots away, and the disappointed looks of Steve and Phil were legendary. Besides that, a lot of people were rather hesitant about messing with the combined muscle mass of Bucky, Steve, Thor, Sam and Clint, let alone the murderous vibes Natasha could give off.

No, most people had learned better than to mess with Tony, and it seemed to do him a world of good. His smiles were larger and more genuine, and the vibrant look in his eyes was honestly a reward on its own.

Which was why they weren’t prepared for the party.

Despite having grown closer, none of them had asked about the pictures. They guessed it might have to do with Tony being affectionate with those he cared about, and honestly desperate enough for kindness that he’d go a little further than he should. And perhaps that was part of it in some cases, but certainly not all of them.

They’d honestly been having a great time, dancing as a group and separately. Tony was practically bouncing between all of them, vibrant and smiling, and even Bruce was smiling, despite not usually being too comfortable in crowded places. Every once in a while, one of them would break off to dance with someone else for a bit before drifting back to the others. It was honestly one of the most fun parties any of them had ever been to.

And then Tony started acting weird.

Bucky was the first one to notice the way he seemed less energetic than before. His first thought was honestly that someone might have said something, since that tended to bring Tony down, but he’d been smiling not five minutes ago and had been dancing with Clint and Thor since then.

Natasha was the second to notice, if only because she became aware of Bucky focusing on Tony with a frown. The fact that she stopped dancing with her meant Pepper noticed as well, and now it was the three of them watching Tony.

Next to notice was Thor, which made sense, since it happened when Tony stumbled straight into him. “Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled, shaking his head a bit as if to wake himself up.

By now, they were all moving closer to him, either having noticed how unsteady he was or having noticed the others watching.

“Tony?” It was Pepper who spoke, Bucky moving right next to Tony in case his swaying led to him nearly falling over again. Looking into his eyes, they were duller than they should be, the usual spark of intelligence replaced with exhausted confusion.

“Pep?” He shook his head again, but his eyes wouldn’t quite focus. He swayed against Bucky, who wrapped an arm around his shoulders to steady him. “Wha’s wrong?”

Her face carefully neutral, Natasha moved to stand in front of him. She held up a hand. “Can you give me a high five? First left, then right, please.”

He tried, but his movements were sluggish and uncoordinated. Bucky could feel how much Tony was leaning into him by now, to the point where he wasn’t sure if Tony would be able to stay upright on his own.

Bucky shared a look with Natasha, but before they could decide on how to go about dealing with this, two people showed up next to them.

Both of them had brown hair, the man’s a little lighter than the woman’s. She was the one who spoke up, the smile on her face just the slightest bit off. “Is your friend alright? He looks rather tired, doesn’t he?” she asked sympathetically. “If you want, we can take him to one of the rooms to sleep it off - that way, you can go ahead and keep enjoying the party.”

The guy started moving before she was even finished talking, reaching out as if to grab Tony, and the glare Bucky sent him could have cracked a rock straight through the middle. “I’ve got him,” he stated, voice making it more than clear that he wasn’t letting go.

“Just trying to help.” He’d raised his hands upon seeing the glare on Bucky’s face. “Thought he might be more comfortable upstairs - give him some time to sleep off the alcohol, you know?”

Before Bucky could let his fist get acquainted with the guy’s face, Natasha spoke up. Her fake smile was far more realistic, though Bucky knew her well enough to notice the calculating glint in her eyes. “Thank you for your assistance,” she told them, her voice smooth. “And you are?”

The look the two of them shared was almost too quick to see - _almost_. “Sally and Tom,” the woman lied to their faces. “Are you sure you don’t want us to just take him somewhere? Wouldn’t want this to ruin your evening, after all, since you seemed to be having a great time out there, and it’s no problem for us to take him.”

Pepper cut in then, a smile on her face that was just a _little_ too sharp. “Thank you, but it’s not nearly as much fun when we’re not _all_ together, you see?”

They shared another quick look, before apparently coming to a decision. “Alright, just trying to be nice,” she told them, holding up her hands defensively. “No need to get all upset about it - not our fault your friend drank a little more than he could handle.”

“I just bet it isn’t,” Natasha told them kindly. By now, the others had more than gotten the implication of what was going on and had just about surrounded Tony and Bucky in a protective wall.

Although her eyes narrowed slightly, ‘Sally’ let the comment slide, walking off with a shrug. ‘Tom’ walked after her, though he did look back at them one more time - by then, Thor had maneuvered his impressive bulk in front of where Tony was leaning heavily into Bucky, so the guy turned back around soon enough, whispering furiously with ‘Sally’.

“I’m going to take them down,” Pepper informed them matter-of-factly. “I am going to find out who they are, and I will make their lives a _living hell_.”

“_We_,” Natasha corrected, face and voice both so neutral that it was scary.

“For now, _we_ will be taking Tony back somewhere safe,” Bucky interrupted. The fact that Tony’s eyes were still open was the only indication that he wasn’t unconscious, and Bucky was honestly worried about him. “Where _we_ will keep an eye on him to make sure he’s alright.”

Fortunately, all of them agreed. He honestly preferred for all of them to be there to keep Tony safe. And if it had the added benefit of not being overheard while planning someone’s downfall while also allowing Bucky to be there to plan right along with them, well… 

No one hurt their friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It wasn't easy to write for me, but I hope it still turned out well. (In case anyone was wondering/had guessed: yes, those were Sunset and Tiberius trying to separate Tony from his friends.)
> 
> Feel free to come check out my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) as well if you want to!


	19. Hallucination

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter one for the 22nd day, but I hope you still enjoy it!

Unlike most other times, this fight it wasn’t the villain that was the most difficult to take down. In fact, once they’d finally managed to find the guy, it really only took Bucky holding him as Tony took away his weapon and then they were free to hand him over to SHIELD.

No, the far bigger problem was said weapon, which he’d been using to shoot some kind of exploding mushroom of a kind that apparently gave people the _worst_ trip of their lives.

Tony had no idea what they were seeing, but their fear was more than obvious.

That, too, wouldn’t have been a huge issue. Once they’d figured it out, putting on some masks wasn’t a problem, and the SHIELD agents were able to help most of the regular people.

The biggest problem was the fact that some of the Avengers had been hit as well. Tony’s armor protected him well enough, and both Sam and Clint kept enough distance that they’d managed to keep from being hit. Even Bucky, now wearing a mouth guard rather than a muzzle that had been designed by Tony himself, had been safe enough. And he couldn’t help but be entirely grateful for the fact that they hadn’t called in the Hulk, because he wasn’t sure how they’d have dealt with that.

As it were, three of their members had no idea who the others were.

Natasha wasn’t the worst, honestly. Seeing her this way was awful, but her initial reaction had been to run and hide away. Clint and Sam were following her, with some help from JARVIS’ locating of her Widow’s Bites, but it was mostly to make sure nothing else happened to her and to make sure she wouldn’t be alone whenever the stuff wore off.

Bucky had been quick to intercept Steve before he could try to attack any civilians, and was holding his own well enough. Tony had been the one to intercept Thor, only just in time to keep his lightning from hitting anything it shouldn’t.

They were the ones in most trouble because, despite the fact that they could _theoretically_ take on Steve and Thor, they didn’t want to hurt their friends when they were obviously already afraid of what they were seeing. It left them mostly taking hits so they wouldn’t hit anything or anyone else, as well as trying to reassure their friends that everything was fine, that it would be better soon.

Predictably, it seemed like Steve and Thor couldn’t hear them.

“You okay?” he asked Bucky, grunting as Thor slammed his hammer down again. His arms were going somewhat numb, but he was also a little hesitant about letting Thor hit his chest full-on.

Initially, all he heard was a responding grunt. “Not great, but managing.” There was a ‘thud’, followed by another grunt. “Just hope it wears off soon.”

“Agreed,” Tony sighed. “J, any estimation?”

“_Unfortunately, no one has shown indications of the effects wearing off yet._”

Tony groaned, hearing Bucky do the same. “Maybe their enhanced metabolism will make it wear off sooner?” he tried hopefully, bringing his arms up to fend off yet another hit. Worryingly, the armor was starting to show some wear and tear, but he still didn’t want to hurt Thor. That meant he might be getting in trouble soon, and from what he was hearing, Bucky seemed to be sharing the same problem.

“... This is gonna be a _long_ day," the assassin groaned.

“... I think so, too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope it was a good read! I can also be found on [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) if you want!


	20. Bleeding Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For day 23 of Whumptober, a pre-WinterIron fill in an AU that includes supernatural creatures. As you will see ^_^

It had happened so quickly that Tony honestly couldn’t quite recall what happened. One moment he was calmly walking down the street; the next, he found himself lying in an alley, bleeding out from multiple stab wounds.

Weakly, he tried to sit up, only to fall back down the one inch he’d managed when the pain hit him.

“Help?” he tried, but he couldn’t quite manage to speak any louder than a whisper.

Closing his eyes, he wondered if he should just resign himself to his fate. His attacker had taken his phone, though there was no way the guy would manage to hack his way in - JARVIS himself kept Tony’s phone safe and inaccessible to anyone but him.

At least it meant that JARVIS would be able to find the person who’d done this to him.

He wasn’t sure why, either. It had occurred to him that it might be a mugging, but his wallet was still safe in his pocket. Only his phone had been taken, making sure he wouldn’t be able to call for help.

Maybe it was because of who he was. An actual assassination attempt for being Tony Stark. He had no illusions about being perfect, but… He’d been helping, right? His weapons kept American soldiers safe, and his multitude of other inventions made lives easier and more comfortable. More and more, he’d been moving to the fields that had _truly_ interested him when he’d been learning about engineering and programming.

He thought he’d been doing _better_.

No words had been exchanged, not as far as he could recall. Just gloved hands and a sharp knife, before he was left alone to die.

No reason had been given at all.

Cold was creeping up on him, but he couldn’t even shiver. Instead, all he could do was look up at the dark sky.

Weirdly enough, the thought hit him that he would’ve preferred to die under the light of the stars, however difficult they might be to see in the middle of New York City - instead, there were clouds obscuring them, making the sky look empty and dreary.

He tried to swallow, failing and coughing instead. It made pain rush through him once again, and he couldn’t help his stifled moan. Damn, but he didn’t _want_ to die. Not yet. There was so much he still wanted to do, so much he still thought he could improve. Now that he was _finally_ old and settled enough that the board _listened_ to him when he suggested avenues other than weapons, he’d been getting to where he’d wanted to take Stark Industries since he’d been young.

He didn’t want to die yet.

Focusing on the clouds, however dreary they were, he tried to keep on breathing. The longer he could manage to keep surviving, the more time there was for someone to perhaps find him and get him to a hospital.

There wasn’t a lot he could move, but he _did_ still have his expensive leather wallet and a somewhat functioning right arm. So, trying to keep his breathing steady, he slowly reached for his wallet, letting his arm fall back down once he’d gotten a hold of it. _Victory_. Then, slowly, he started slapping it onto the ground.

It didn’t make much of a sound, but at least it was more than his voice could produce.

Damn, Pepper would be _so_ pissed at him. Not to mention Rhodey. And Obie, too.

He just hoped Happy wouldn’t feel too bad for suddenly falling ill. That wasn’t something he could help, after all, and there was no way Tony was forcing the man to keep acting as a bodyguard when he should be home and resting.

As he grew increasingly cold, he just found himself wishing he could get a message to them somehow. Not even to save him anymore - he wasn’t sure that was even possible, not with his injuries and the amount of blood he’d lost, though he was still determined to keep trying. But just to let them know that he cared, and that he knew how incredibly lucky he had been to have them in his life and caring for him.

Honestly, it wasn’t even that bad anymore. The pain was starting to fade out of awareness, and instead he mostly felt tired. It was becoming a struggle to keep his eyes open, and his slow tapping with the wallet was tapering off into a silence filled only with his increasingly strained breathing.

Until a shadow appeared above him.

It wasn’t much of a shadow, not with the lack of light, but it woke Tony up just a little. Not enough to speak, not with the way every breath was a struggle by now, but enough to look at the man that had appeared.

He was attractive - shoulder-length brown hair, intense light eyes, and a highly attractive stubble adorning a jawline that had Tony envious. His broad build and dark clothes should probably have felt threatening, but he was honestly beyond that. Instead, he found himself wondering if it would be possible to experience one last touch, one last confirmation. If it would be possible not to die on his own.

“Oh, sweetheart… That don’t look good,” he said softly, and Tony managed the slightest shiver at the sound of his voice. It was like a warm blanket surrounding him, leaving him feeling peaceful and comforted.

Even more than before, he struggled to keep his eyes open. He wasn’t alone anymore, and he wanted to savor every moment of it.

Which was why he could observe the contemplative look on the man’s face as he looked down at Tony, as well as the exact moment he appeared to come to a decision. As well as the exact moment fangs descended from the sides of his mouth.

Rather than feeling afraid, or threatened, Tony just gave into it. The touch of lips on the wound that appeared to have just missed his heart was more gentle than he thought anyone but Rhodey had touched him in years. It didn’t take long, not with how much he’d bled already, and for a brief moment he wondered if the vampire had decided to simply take advantage of the situation and drain him completely.

Then there was a wrist in front of his mouth, the tiniest slice releasing a clear liquid. The moment the taste hit him, Tony couldn’t help but latch on, drinking as deeply as he could in his weakened state.

Vaguely, he was aware of a large hand cradling his head as he sucked, stroking his hair just a little. He leaned into it just a little, aware he was probably acting like a cat desperate for attention, but he couldn’t help himself. Already, it felt like coming home.

Still incredibly gently, the vampire pulled his wrist away. It was tempting to follow, to taste some more of that ambrosia, but that would mean pulling away from the hand still stroking his hair. So he leaned into it, into the vampire’s body. He knew it shouldn’t be, but to him, it felt warm and safe.

As the Change set in, he could feel the way he was picked up gently in a bridal carry, allowing his head to fall against that strong chest. In response, the arms tightened just a little to pull him even closer.

There was a soft whisper, barely audible. “I’ll take care of you now, sweetheart.”

Then, everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Feel free to come say 'hi' on my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) as well if you want to :)


	21. Secret Injury; Humiliation; Abandoned

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, another amalgamated chapter, this one dealing with only 3 prompts because I was able to snap out of it earlier! I hope you enjoy it!

"Never again," Clint groaned.

From around the Quinjet there were sounds of agreement, though none of them had the energy to do more than that.

Today's battle had been simply _awful_, and none of them had gotten out of it without at least a few bruises, if not worse. Hours upon hours of fighting meant they were also completely exhausted.

Most of them had collapsed where they'd been standing when the fight finally ended. Bucky and Natasha had held on by a single stubborn thread, but Tony had carried all of the others to the Quinjet in the armor, trying to get them as comfortable as possible before getting behind the controls and starting to fly them back somewhere they would have medical attention they could trust.

Once he had the jet in the air and set to fly under JARVIS' control for a while, Tony stared out of the window for a little while. Then, shutting his eyes briefly and taking a deep breath, he got up again.

The Quinjet might not have a large amount of medical supplies, but it did have some emergency things stocked. "J, keep track and order new supplies." He knew he didn't have the energy at the moment to make note of whatever he was using, let alone remember it to replace it later. Fortunately, that was why he had JARVIS.

Sam was the first he saw to, if only because the gash on his arm still hadn’t stopped bleeding. He honestly didn’t imagine it would without stitches, but it was at least important to staunch the flow a little. So, after rinsing it out quickly to make sure there would be as little dirt in there as possible, he smeared some disinfectant cream over there and wrapped it up. The doctors would do better later, but for now it was important to keep him from bleeding too much.

“Any other big wounds?” he asked, managing to sound _far_ less tired than he felt.

“Nothing open,” Sam admitted. “Bruises, wrist might be sprained or broken.”

Grabbing one of the multitudes of cold packs was quickly done, and after putting it down on Sam’s wrist and seeing him relax, Tony moved on to Steve. His supersoldier healing was already at work repairing the damage, but that didn’t mean there wasn’t a lot of it.

It took some bandages and cold packs, but soon Steve relaxed at least some. Bucky had the same deal, though he did admit his leg might be broken as well. Since he honestly didn’t know enough to be sure of how to set a leg so it’d heal right, Tony just made a mental note to have it checked out by a doctor as soon as possible.

Slowly but surely, he worked his way through all of them. Most of his work involved applying cold packs to wherever things hurt the most and hoping it’d help with the pain at least a little, since he didn’t want to play with medicine when the doctors might need to give some of them something and it could possibly interact. He did at least notice some of their strain easing a little, so he had to be doing something right.

Finally, Bruce only needed a blanket - the Hulk had taken damage, but that didn’t transfer to Bruce. But he was even more exhausted than usual, not even responding when Tony gently eased him up a little to drink a meal replacement shake. It was cautious work when he wasn’t entirely conscious, and Tony almost wanted to skip it, but he knew the Hulk spent enough energy that leaving Bruce to just sleep it off might mean he’d end up in the medical wing anyway due to a dangerously low blood sugar level. At least this way, he wasn’t in immediate danger, though it was likely he could still use an infusion for the first few hours.

“Dude… How?” Clint groaned as he finally stepped away from Bruce, empty packet in his hand.

“Regular insomniac,” Tony told him with a fair attempt at a grin.

“And a suit that protects you extremely well,” Sam noted, managing to sound both complementary and a little jealous.

“Regular _genius_ insomniac,” he allowed. He couldn’t say he was too surprised when both Clint and Sam graced him with a look only _slightly_ better than if they’d stuck out their tongues. His huff was close enough to laughter that it made both of them glare playfully. “You’re just jealous.”

“Very,” Sam deadpanned, but since Clint hissed out a “Yesssssssss” at the same time, he didn’t take it to heart.

“I mean, our protective suits are great, but it’s gotta help when you’ve got your mechanical suit to do a lot of the fighting.”

Tony just grinned at them. He was well-aware of how easy it was to assume the suit did most of the work, especially since he usually managed to look pretty bright-eyed and bushy-tailed even after a long fight. It wasn’t always ideal, but he preferred it over having them worry about him.

Once they finally landed, he took them to medical one by one. Bruce, as expected, got an IV line and a bed to rest. He didn’t even wake up when Tony picked him up, so he was glad there were experts to look after Bruce now.

Sam got stitches for the gash in his arm and had, unfortunately, broken his wrist. Once that was taken care of, the doctors ended up setting a couple of bones for both Bucky and Steve, though their healing would have to take care of the rest. Little by little, Tony watched as his teammates were taken care of, the doctors busily working around all of them as they switched tasks smoothly.

Perhaps, for situations like these, he should see if there was any more trustworthy personnel that could work on the Avengers? They were enough after regular missions, but now even the less human members of their team needed extensive treatment.

Still, he was sure they were in good hands.

Abandoning them to the care of the doctors, Tony headed off to his workshop. Once the door closed behind him, JARVIS immediately spoke up. “Sir…”

“I know.”

Now that he didn’t have the others to worry about worrying, he didn’t bother putting in effort to keep the strain from his voice. Instead, he stumbled over to the corner he’d designed for when taking the armor off on his own was either too much or simply impossible.

“I would advise you to see a doctor, Sir,” JARVIS informed him as he went to work gently removing the armor.

“They’re busy with the others,” Tony dismissed him. “Not to mention that, even if my ribs are bruised or broken, there’s not a lot to do except take pain medication and cooling it.”

“They _would_ be able to tell if anything was displaced, however. Not to mention there appear to be some other injuries as well that should be checked out, including but not limited to a possible fracture in your left arm and a sprained or broken right ankle.” JARVIS was matter-of-fact about it, and Tony knew he was right. He didn’t _think_ anything was too bad, but without a scan, there was simply no way of being certain.

Still, he shook his head. “I’ll just take it easy for now. They’ve got the others to worry about. I’ll go see them later.”

It was obvious JARVIS disapproved, but rather than push it, he simply guided DUM-E to support Tony for a quick toilet visit before moving over to the couch. Then, he encouraged the ‘bot to grab some cold packs for the injured areas, as well as some bottled water. Tony was grateful for it, resolving to do something nice for his creations when he was feeling better.

One advantage of the suit was certainly that it tended to keep his bones in place, meaning he wasn’t too worried about anything starting to heal wrong. Especially in the few hours it would take for the doctors to take the best care of the others.

He dozed off a few times, but only slightly. The pain made it impossible to truly relax, and every breath hurt just enough to keep him awake despite his exhaustion.

“Sir, the doctors are done with taking care of the others,” JARVIS alerted him.

As he started to get up, he found that he simply… couldn’t. The exhaustion and pain made it so he could hardly even move his mostly uninjured right arm, let alone the rest of his body. So rather than getting up like he knew he should, he just remained where he was.

“Sir?”

He wasn’t too sure what to say. ‘I can’t move’ was incredibly embarrassing, but he’d also sort of promised to go see the doctors once they were free. “I… think my body might be a bit done with today?” he settled for, grimacing a little at how silly that sounded. “I’m trying, but…”

Before he could get too worried, or doze off again - it was honestly a toss-up at the moment - JARVIS announced he had a visitor. “Sergeant Barnes is at the workshop door, Sir.”

Frowning in confusion, Tony couldn’t help but let out a surprised “why?”.

“From what I can gather, he appeared concerned for you upon noticing you weren’t in the medical wing with everyone else. He then asked me if you were on your floor or in the workshop, and I informed him the latter was the case.”

Part of Tony was embarrassed to be seen like this, but another part of him was honestly warmed that Bucky had actually worried about him. It was that part that won out, nodding to JARVIS for permission to let the supersoldier in.

Of course, he regretted it almost immediately when Bucky frowned with concern, sharp eyes noting the multitude of cold packs that DUM-E had kept regularly taking off and reapplying.

“How hurt are you?” was the first question he asked, moving straight past worrying and into caring.

“I was going to see the doctors after they were done with all of you,” Tony justified himself.

At that, Bucky’s eyes softened just a little. “Not blaming you - your body, your choice. Not gonna pretend I like it, but you do what you think is best. Just worried about you.” He stepped closer, giving DUM-E a pat on his claw as the ‘bot came to say hello. “Docs are done with us though - nothing left to do but wait for everything to heal now. Steve and Thor are keeping an eye on the others for now, since we’re mostly healed already.”

His face felt like it was burning up, though he wasn’t sure if it was exhaustion or embarrassment. “I… can’t move,” he admitted, and yeah, it was humiliation.

Despite the way worry sharpened his eyes, Bucky remained gentle and respectful. “Do you… I mean, are you okay with me helping you over there? Or is there anything else I can do?”

And yes, he was incredibly embarrassed. Ever since he’d been young, he’d been taught that needing help was weak, and that he should be able to do things on his own no matter what. But even though there was nothing he could do at the moment, even though his body didn’t even listen to him, Bucky _did_. Rather than let his concern take over, he _asked_ Tony what he wanted, and there was no doubt in his mind that Bucky would respect his decision even if he decided to just keep sitting there.

It was that respect that enabled him to overcome his embarrassment enough to nod just a little. “I… If you could? Support me?”

He didn’t think he’d be able to handle Bucky carrying him, no matter how much that might be the wiser option for his ribs. And rather than argue, Bucky just nodded, gently helping him off the couch and supporting him as much as possible while still allowing him to stand on his own.

If he had to pinpoint it, that was the moment that started to transform his basic attraction into _more_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to come say 'hi' on my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) as well if you want to!


	22. Ransom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For today, I went a bit softer and funnier again with a slightly different take on the usual 'kidnapping' plot. I hope it makes you smile as well!

“You’re _joking_,” he said incredulously.

“Do we _look_ like we’re joking?” Kidnapper 1 asked, and from what Tony had seen so far, he appeared to be the leader in this entire plan. He’d been the one to tell the others what to do and where to go.

He also looked the most serious about it all. Most of the others seemed a bit uncertain at best, and Tony didn’t think they had a lot of history when it came to criminal acts.

“Look, just… Consider, and I will tell you this _only once_, that this is a _terrible_ idea that will get you imprisoned at best and maimed or killed at worst, and there is still time to go back, but not a _lot_ of time, if you get my meaning.”

They did not get his meaning.

“_Shut up_,” Kidnapper 1 snarled, and actually made the mistake of hitting him, which kind of signed his death warrant.

Tony just rolled his eyes. “Your funeral, man,” he said, shrugging to the extent he could with his arms tied to the chair. He just figured it’d be nicer to warn these people, considering they were obviously amateurs, and give them a chance to change their minds before it was too late.

Behind Kidnapper 1, it appeared that the other three were kind of worried about his warning, however. It was Kidnapper 2 that ended up asking what they clearly all wanted to ask. “Ehm… Why is this a terrible idea?”

“Because he’s just trying to unsettle us,” Kidnapper 1 sneered. “Don’t listen to him - I’m getting the recording equipment. Stick to the plan.”

Such obvious amateurs. Tony kind of wanted to sigh, although he refrained. If these people would be willing to listen to him, all the better. “Stark Industries does not pay ransoms,” he explained to them.

“But you’re Tony Stark,” Kidnapper 3 argued. “They’ll want you back, right?”

“You send that message, it ends up with Pepper Potts, who will _immediately_ alert the Avengers. There’s never gonna be any ransom - it’s not gonna take them all that long to figure out where I am and who’s holding me, and when I do, they’re going to come get me. That’s _all_ that’s going to happen here.”

He meant it, too. Pepper knew better than to start paying ransoms, because once that started it wouldn’t end. But no doubt JARVIS had been looking for him ever since losing contact, and he had no doubts the others would be showing up soon.

Which he wouldn’t mind, really. He’d appreciate the help. But if he could get himself out of here before they could, it would be even better.

Kidnappers 2, 3 and 4 were whispering to one another, and while he couldn’t understand what they were saying, it was clear they _were_ taking his warning a lot more seriously than Kidnapper 1 did. Which they should, because despite his reputation, he was definitely one of the more forgiving Avengers.

Okay, that was a lie, but he had no problems forgiving people who came after _him_. Go after his friends and all bets were off.

“And if we brought you back now?” It was Kidnapper 2, and while he didn’t sound entirely certain about this course of action, he was at least considering it.

“We all make mistakes,” Tony told them. “I’ll tell the others to play nice and let me deal with it myself, and we’ll take a look at why you chose to make this particular one and what can be done so you’re not tempted to try something like this again.” Because he had no illusions that these people were desperate for money, for whatever reason. He’d have to be careful about setting any kind of precedent, but on the other hand, if they showed that they’d be willing to be reasoned with…

And as for the Avengers, it didn’t seem like Kidnapper 1 was going to change his mind, so they wouldn’t be left completely empty-handed.

Which was how Tony Stark ended up showing right back up at the Tower, only a few bruises richer, with three little ducklings behind him. He could _hear_ the way they swallowed as the attention of the Avengers was directed at them - it probably didn’t help that the others were already armed and looked ready to go out for a hunt of epic proportions.

“Not to worry guys, got everything solved,” he told them cheerily, which at least got him Steve’s attention. No doubt the others were listening as well, but they were also making sure to keep an eye on his former kidnappers.

“Are you alright?” Steve asked, assessing him carefully for anything obviously wrong.

Only the bruise on his cheek was instantly obvious, however, and he noticed the way Steve’s eyes kept returning to that. “Only some small bruises, nothing serious,” he shrugged it off. “Most of it was the other guy, anyway - which reminds me, would any of you be available to pick him up where we left him?”

Hilariously, only Bruce didn’t immediately volunteer, and Tony gave the others the address where they’d left Kidnapper 1 tied to the same chair he’d been stuck in. Then he grudgingly allowed the other scientist to look him over ‘just in case’ while his former kidnappers waited in one of the smaller conference rooms for him to talk to them, monitored carefully by JARVIS.

And although he grumbled outwardly, he couldn’t help the smile breaking through.

He loved his family.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked today's fill, and feel free to come say 'hi' on my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) as well if you want to.


	23. Beaten

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A High School AU for this one, with Tony getting bullied. No pairings, but pre-Avengers as family :P

Tony gritted his teeth as another foot hit his legs, the same time another one hit his back. By now, he’d curled up to protect his chest and head, but they didn’t show any sign of stopping.

He would _not_ give them the satisfaction of seeing him cry, though. He might be bruised, and bloody, and dirty, but they would _not_ break him.

"Yeah, not so high and mighty anymore, are you, Stark?"

The best thing to do would be to stay silent, to just let them get it out so they’d feel like they won and would walk away. But if there was anything Tony was _terrible_ at, it was keeping his mouth shut when he should.

So he looked up at Stone, at Hammer, at Killian, at Vanko, at Beck, and _sneered_. “Fuck you.”

Just in time, he managed to protect his face from the kick that followed. They got even more vicious, and he wondered if his ribs would be broken, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not when he’d seen the way it had knocked all of them off the high horses they felt they were on, the way it made them feel like _they_ were the weak ones.

Which they were, honestly. Five against one, there was no way Tony could fight back and win and they had known it. Which was why, despite most of them usually hanging out with others, they’d gone for this together.

Because they all _hated_ Tony.

Being smart, and rich, and good-looking, had not made him all that popular overall. There were enough people who wanted to be his ‘friends’ as long as they could get something out of it, and there were times where he was tempted. But if there was anything he’d learned from his Aunt Peggy, aside from how to defend himself, it was not to compromise himself for others, not when they would never return the favor.

It had left him fairly alone, which was an unfortunately familiar feeling, but at least he still felt like he could respect himself.

Unfortunately, that also left him vulnerable. And when the people who disliked him didn’t even have the courtesy of dealing with him individually, there wasn’t a whole lot he could do but try to make sure they wouldn’t do any lasting damage.

With the way they were carrying on, he was starting to worry.

“Hey! What’s going on here!?” The voice sounded vaguely familiar, and the hitting stopped.

Tentatively, Tony looked over to where the voice had come from, only to see Steve Rogers. And not just him, either - he had his entire group of friends with him, and none of them looked very happy.

“Mind your own business,” Hammer told them.

“Just teaching the Stark kid a little lesson,” Stone elaborated a little. Considering Tony was well-known and unpopular, he probably thought they’d leave them be after that. And Tony had to admit, for a moment he was afraid they would do exactly that.

But apparently, their rumored intolerance of bullying even extended to Tony himself, because Rogers only stepped closer, the others right with him. “Leave him alone.”

“Why the hell do you care?” Beck snapped. “Not like anyone gives a shit about him.”

“Last chance, assholes.” Rogers tended to be nicer about things - until he threw himself straight into a fight. Barnes, his best friend, had no such compunctions. “Back off or get your asses beat.”

They did not back off, and all Tony could do was watch in astonishment as Rogers, Barnes and the others completely swept the floor with the five of them. For _him_.

Huh. They might have hurt some ribs after all. His chest was feeling warm in a way it usually didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed it, and feel free to come check out my a href="https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/" rel="nofollow">Tumblr as well if you'd like.


	24. Numb

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A brief fic, with Rhodey coming to find Tony after his parents have died.

When Jim found him, he was just… sitting. Staring.

“I’m so sorry, man,” he told his best friend, hesitantly sitting down next to him. Tony was usually very touchy and affectionate, like the younger brother he’d never had, but considering the situation, he wasn’t sure what to do.

“It’s… Thank you.” Even Tony’s voice sounded more distant than usual.

For a long while, the two of them just sat in silence. As much as Jim wanted to be there for him, he wasn’t quite sure how to. So he just stayed, hoping it would help at least a little.

Eventually, Tony spoke up, his voice even. “Is it normal to just… not really feel anything?” He breathed, briefly looking over to Jim before going back to staring out the window again, where a thin layer of snow was covering the landscape. “I mean, somewhere in the back of my mind, I know I should be… feeling. Grieving. But it all just feels numb.”

Jim grimaced a little. The only experience with death he could remember, if vaguely, was when his grandfather had died, and that had been over ten years ago. And while he’d liked the man well enough, eleven was not an age where he’d entirely comprehended everything going on.

But he couldn’t even try to imagine losing either of his parents, let alone both of them at the same time. His mind retreated from the very thought as if burnt.

He guessed Tony’s mind might be doing something similar to that, no matter how strained his relationship with his father might have been. “I can’t say if it’s normal or not,” he confessed, “but I can’t say I blame you.”

Silence fell again and, hoping he was doing the right thing, Jim reached out and grabbed Tony’s hand. He’d worried that Tony might pull away, that it might be too much at the moment, but instead he intertwined his fingers with Jim’s and held on.

No doubt that it would all hit, and that Tony would get emotional. It might take a few hours, or a few days… maybe even a few weeks, or months, or even years. But Jim was determined to be there for his friend no matter how long it took, and no matter in what kind of way his grief would express itself.

There was no doubt in his mind Tony would do the exact same for him, had been no doubt that they would be there for one another ever since the day they’d met one another.

More than friends, they were _family_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you liked it. Feel free to come check out my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) as well if you'd like to.


	25. Recovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A somewhat silly AU where Tony, after getting more surgery for his chest (after the equivalent of Afghanistan) goes to get professional help and meets the others. Pre-WinterIron.

Rhodey and Pepper had been the ones to convince him to go to the Marvel Rehabilitation Center.

He’d argued at first. He’d managed to make it through the first operation, after all, and those circumstances had been less than ideal. This time he had anesthetics, and he wasn’t being tortured, and he had time to heal at his own pace instead of racing against time to try to figure out a way to escape.

When he’d said so, they’d only looked sad, which hadn’t been his intention. He just wanted to make it clear that he didn’t _need_ any help, medical or psychological, because he could _deal_ with it.

They had argued just as hard and, when outlining the many benefits of medical and psychological help as well as having a place where there would be other people around to keep him busy in medically appropriate ways did not work, they pleaded with him. And while he was great at saying ‘no’ to their arguments, he was _incredibly_ weak to their pleas.

So the Marvel Rehab Center it was.

For the first few days, he’d _hated_ it. He didn’t want to talk about his traumas (he would like to forget all about them) and he didn’t want any assistance (he would like to just work his way through everything like he usually did).

Still, he’d remembered his promise to his best friends, and so he _tried_. Marvel was _huge_, after all, dealing with all kinds of problems and people. So he figured that, if nothing else, he’d be able to find a way to be _less_ bored. Rehab-appropriate diversion was what he’d been promised, and he’d find it even if it killed him.

The staff hadn’t been too pleased with the fact that he’d sort of gone missing for a few hours, but Tony figured it had been more than worth it (and he bet that if he asked the staff now, they’d agree - he’d been a _lot_ calmer and more agreeable since).

Steve had been the first one he’d met. Steve was tiny and ready to throw down _whenever_ and also suffered from a laundry list of illnesses that he had apparently thrown down with ever since he was born. Tony liked him instantly.

Bruce was the second one. From what Tony could gather, he’d had some bad history which had resulted in Dissociative Identity Disorder, with an alternate identity named Hulk. It was also easy to tell that Bruce was _terrified_ of hurting anyone, and despised Hulk for his violent tendencies (though always towards objects rather than people). Besides that, though, he was also a brilliant scientist, and Tony had zero hesitation about hanging out with him as often as possible.

Natasha was the third, and Tony was honestly not entirely sure what was up with her. He guessed it had something to do with the suspicious way she tended to watch everyone, or the way she had a tendency of appearing _this_ close to killing someone. But she’d looked lonely, and everyone had appeared to be afraid of her. Tony could basically _feel_ Rhodey and Pepper facepalming in the distance as he approached her.

Clint was next. Clint was a _disaster_. Chaotic, depressed, and beyond clumsy. He also had the single best sense of humor Tony had ever found. He’d decided he was adopting Clint.

Sam was also depressed, as well as traumatized, from losing his best friend. He seemed to find part of his own purpose in helping out others at the Center and often led some sort of mindfulness group that Tony had said he would join only if Steve would. Considering the thought of Steve trying out mindfulness was laughable, he wasn’t anticipating that would be something to worry about.

Thor was loud and cheerful and had body dysmorphic disorder. He tried his best to be cheerful and it was clear that most of the other people found him overwhelming. The fact that he was incredibly tall and incredibly muscular didn’t help much. Thor laughed at Tony’s jokes when he made them and clapped him on the shoulder hard enough that he wondered if it had left a bruise.

Finally (and perhaps most importantly), there was Bucky. Bucky, who had seen war. Bucky, who had lost his left arm. Bucky, who had then been held as a prisoner of war. Bucky, who was _ridiculously_ attractive and _ridiculously_ sarcastic and _ridiculously_ smart.

Tony had decided he wanted to marry Bucky.

He wasn’t in a hurry - it was clear Bucky was not comfortable with himself, didn’t feel like he was in a position to get into a relationship. But Tony was more than willing to wait if that was what it took, and eventually he’d be able to ask Bucky out and hope the other man would say ‘yes’ so Tony could get on with his twelve-step plan towards marrying him.

That evening, he’d texted Rhodey and Pepper. **Met my future husband. You’ll love him.**

He might not have wanted to go here, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret it. Not as he looked around at all of them. Not as Steve threatened to fight Thor, who looked at him like he was a particularly adorable puppy. Not as Clint knocked over their game board accidentally and Bruce facepalmed. Not as Sam and Bucky snarled at one another, looking about ready to tear each others’ throats out. Not even as Natasha pulled out a knife from somewhere (and he was pretty sure she wasn’t allowed to have them) and told them all to shut the hell up and sit down before she _made them_.

In fact, he mused, he should send Rhodey and Pepper a thank-you card. Perhaps the others would even add a message of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this second-to-last fill! Feel free to come say 'hi' on my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) if you'd like to!


	26. Embrace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, whump... xD I hope you'll like this final (and _very_ whumpy) WinterIron fill for my Whumptober!!

He wasn’t going to last much longer.

Every single part of him was hurting. He had long since passed being exhausted. Some of his wounds had become infected, and he was pretty sure some of his bones had been broken and were healing wrong. Not to mention the fact that the cough he’d developed was worrying him. Ever since Afghanistan, his lungs had already been compromised, and he wouldn’t be surprised to find out they’d gotten infected as well.

If the others didn’t find him soon, he was afraid it might end up being too late. And what was worse, they’d started to make him doubt.

Usually, people would kidnap him for ransom or to make him build them something. It was what he’d been used to since far too young, and he knew how to deal with either of those situations.

These people hadn’t, though. As far as he knew, there had been no demands - to Pepper, to Rhodey, to Bucky, or to the other Avengers. And they certainly hadn’t let him anywhere near anything he could use to get himself out. Instead, the only thing they seemed to want was to make him _suffer_ as much as possible.

Oddly enough, the physical torture wasn’t even the worst. It hurt, and it might be what ended up killing him, but mentally, he could _deal_ with it. But they’d kept him awake for days with lights, with noise, and despite being used to some sleep deprivation, this had quickly surpassed his ability to handle it. And then there was the mental torture - the curses, he was familiar with. Even the way they told him, over and over again, that everything was his fault, that he was a terrible person and that his weapons had killed _thousands_, that he would burn in hell for all eternity, was familiar.

It was the certainty with which they told him that no one was coming for him that threatened to break him, though. The way they yelled that no one cared about him, because how could they, and they would be glad to be rid of him. The way they laughed and told him he was pathetic, thinking people could actually love someone like him.

Somehow, it felt as though they’d dug up his deepest, darkest fears and threw them straight into his face. It was everything he’d ever worried about, all of the things he had thought but never said out loud.

He’d managed, so far, to pretend it didn’t bother him that much. Three days in, he’d gone silent, stoically gritting his teeth and mentally chanting ‘Stark men are made of iron’ over and over and over again. Outwardly, they might be able to see that he was suffering, but he could still pretend that they hadn’t broken him.

Maybe they hadn’t, yet. Maybe this was just bending, farther than he’d ever thought he could. As long as he didn’t let them see him break, maybe… Maybe he hadn’t, yet.

Through it all, he’d tried to remind himself that they’d come. He might be all of the bad things they said and more, but… They knew about that. Rhodey had known him since he’d been a teenager, had been there through so many highs and lows that he probably knew more about Tony than he knew about himself. Bucky had gotten to know things about him that he’d never told anyone else and still stuck with him, still told him he loved him. Pepper, the other Avengers...

They all knew him, good sides and bad, and they still _cared_. There was no way they’d faked that, no way they would pretend to like him just for his money or his tech.

(Except he’d thought Obie cared as well, hadn’t he?)

((But Rhodey and Pepper both would’ve been set for life if he’d ended up dying in Afghanistan. Yet they’d never stopped looking for him, never stopped setting up search missions to try to find him.))

Lack of sleep wasn’t helping when it came to trying to have faith. His mind oscillated wildly between the hope that the others cared, that they were looking for him, and the despair of knowing he wasn’t worth it and they shouldn’t come for him, _wouldn’t_ come for him.

He coughed again, grimacing at the way it made agony course through him. There were a few trickles of blood as some of his wounds opened again due to the movement.

Gritting his teeth, Tony reminded himself to just hang on.

They were looking for him. They had to be. They were his friends, his _family_. They weren’t _fake_, not like Obie had been. He might not be worth it, might deserve to die right here, suffering until his last breath. But that wasn’t the kind of people they were. They were good, and honest. They were _heroes_. And he knew he was not a good person, but somehow they must have found something in him that was decent enough for him to deserve having them care about him.

So all he had to do was _last_.

_Stark men are made of iron. Hang on. They are coming._

He repeated it to himself over and over and over, ignoring the pain as they hit him, cut him, kicked him.

He repeated it to himself over and over and over, drowning out their voices as they yelled about how terrible he was, how pathetic, how worthless.

He repeated it to himself over and over and over, clutching to it desperately as they pushed him down into a tub of salt water that made him want to _scream_.

_Stark men are made of iron. Hang on. They are coming._

He was still holding onto it when the gunfire started, when there were yells and screams and roars. And he had to crush the little spark of hope, because if it wasn’t them, that might just end up breaking him.

Instead he held on, breathing as evenly as possible and listening carefully for hints of what was going on. And if, in his mind, a litany of _please please please_ had started, well… No one else could hear that, or judge him for his weakness.

And then the door was _slammed_ open, bouncing off the wall and off the hinges.

Bucky was dressed in full gear, one hand holding a gun and the other a knife. The look on his face was absolutely murderous, and even the black of his gear couldn’t hide the blood.

The moment his eyes met Tony’s, his entire face softened in a way that was so intimately familiar that Tony’s breath caught for a moment. “Tony…” Of course, then he looked at the _rest_ of Tony, and his face looked like it could have been carved from stone. Tony knew him well enough to know that, right now, Bucky very badly wanted to go out there and make every single person that had hurt him _suffer_.

Rather than doing that, though, he stepped further into the room. “Found him,” he informed the others, voice flat and business-like. Tony couldn’t hear what the others were saying, but he could guess when Bucky’s next words were “alive, but injured. _Badly_.”

After informing the others, though, he once again focused fully on Tony. “Oh, doll…”

He wanted to speak up, wanted to say hello, or that he’d missed him, or that he’d be fine. But he didn’t want to risk it, not with his injuries and his lungs and the way that his throat felt like he’d swallowed knives. So instead he just attempted the best smile he could, feeling the way it sat unevenly on his face.

And then Bucky was there, and for the first time in what felt like ages, someone touched him without hurting him. The whimper he let out was completely involuntary, instantly triggering another coughing fit that made his eyes water with the pain of it.

Through all of it, Bucky held him, somehow managing to find the exact right balance between tight enough to make Tony feel secure without being so tight that it would hurt more or injure him further.

He didn’t have a lot of strength to move with, but with the bit he had left, he buried his face into Bucky’s neck, savoring the warmth, the feeling of utter and complete _safety_ that Bucky always inspired in him. With Bucky holding him, nothing would hurt him anymore. And while he was still very aware of his injuries, they seemed somehow less painful now.

As he pressed a small, desperately grateful kiss into Bucky’s neck, he could feel the way those strong arms tightened just a little, the way Bucky curled around him protectively.

“I’ve got you, doll. We’re here, we’ve got you. You’re safe now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all _so much_ for taking this journey with me! It's been an experience to be sure, and I hope you've all enjoyed it!!
> 
> Feel free to visit my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) as well if you'd like to.

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to come check out my [Tumblr](https://eirlyssa.tumblr.com/) as well if you'd like!


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